#i’ve attempted to type this three times and i sort of give up but

[19mhz]

a.

[dee-the-red-witch]

How to ACTUALLY date a trans girl

(This column was originally submitted to Autostraddle as a reply to their "A Trans Guy’s Guide to Picking Up a Trans Girl" but since they've apparently passed on it, it gets to be posted up free everywhere else instead.) Picture this- you’re a trans woman who’s been in transition for three years now. Your dating life has gone from abysmal to amazing in alternate fits and spurts and you’ve found not just one, but three awesome partners despite the many, MANY pitfalls you’ve experienced along the way. And then one day, your social media feeds ping up with screencaps of a guide to picking up girls like yourself. Needing a good laugh, you click through. And read. And proceed to smack your forehead with your own palm in frustration a few times and giggle and some other lines on the first readthrough. But things feel off, so you read again. And begin to seethe. And then start opening up the Word document and start typing frenziedly into it. Because honestly? At the end of the day, as a trans lesbian who dates all sorts of people on non-male parts of the amorphous spectral mass that is Gender, I feel like I’m obligated to. I wanted to go into that first reading and find a column that actually got things right, and this was so far off the mark in the worst ways, so I feel like I have to set some things down on paper. Because this guide reads, in so many ways, like everything my cisfem friends have complained about in the straight dating scene for years. Reading through it that second time, I felt almost the exact same sense of of sheer grease and sleaze that I’ve felt reading incel pickup guides. I felt like I was being seen as a pretty object at best and a disposable sex toy at worst. I wasn’t treated as human. At best it was a bunch of stereotypes, none of which applied to me. But under it all, I saw other bits- the tricks an abuser used to lure me in. The lies my rapist fed me. The excuses made by folks online for why I should be treated like a monster or thing because of my identity. You know, the specific blend of misogyny that singles out transfem identities in general- transmisogyny. And since we’re addressing the elephant in the room, I want to address a few particular points from Gabe’s article before I give you some real idea of how to go about this. And I want to emphasize here- this is after editing out a page of swearing, going over Gabe’s own past history of transmisogynistic writing, and just cutting it down to the actual points where the original article really went wrong, and also pick up a few points at the end that’ll actually work well for trans guys or anyone else who might be interested in a relationship with a trans girl. First off, if you’re trans as well? Stop playing the ‘we’re both trans’ card. ESPECIALLY if you’re coming at it from a ‘Why yes, I used to be a woman’ angle. For one, you’re telling us at the same time that you see us as former men, which is usually very much not the transfem experience (Personally, I always felt like I was putting on a ‘man’ act. All the time. Badly.) and for another, you’re being transphobic to yourself and your own identity. If we’re there to date you, it’s as the man you are- be that guy.

Secondly, just because the trans woman experience shares similarities with the experience you had trying to be a woman up until you came out and transitioned, it also has staggering fundamental differences, and your attempts to relate are going to highlight those differences in ways that aren’t going to work in your favor. We didn’t get to go shopping in public, or if we did, it was fraught with fear at being caught out in the early stages of transition, followed by massive frustrations with both trying to figure out where we fit into women’s sizing. And then discovering that absolutely nothing available in local stores, including thrift shops, would fit right, especially not that cute choker we’d always been drooling over. That nothing smelled right for lotion or perfume because we were dealing with a body chemistry that was going through a slow shift on HRT. And we don’t need or want to be reminded of just how much we stand out from the other girls in those kind of regards.

Also, maybe, just maybe, don’t do things that would get seen as completely misogynistic and creepy if you pulled them on a cisgender woman. Don’t go digging into her socials- stalkers and chasers pull that crap and it’s beyond tiresome. Don’t try to deduce what her pretransition life was like, that’s for her to share, if she chooses to. Don’t see her as a stereotype- some of us never played New Vegas, owned cat ears, or like thigh-highs. On that first date if you ever get there, don’t bring her flowers, lovebomb her like mad, constantly find little ways to touch her, any of that- if she has any experience, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop in response, because she’s had this treatment before and it ended oh so badly. Just be yourself. And get it through your head that the bear is still definitely a choice regardless of everything- after all, we have examples like Gabe to prove that transmisogyny certainly isn’t limited to cis folks.

What should you do? Treat her like any other woman. Treat her like a human being, because we get so little of that, even from the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community. Yes, you’ll more than likely have to take initiative, because we’re used to seeing our attractions, needs, and desires as being perceived as aggressive or predatory by others. When you touch her, do it with assertion and intent- none of the little brushes and stalker moves- ask if you can hold her hand, or put an arm around her, so she knows you actually want to be here and want contact with her. Listen to her, and pay attention- let her be open and honest about her experiences and interests, and remember what she tells you, because she’s going to need to know that she’s wanted and valued for who she is and what she’s into, and it will be part of how she connects to you. And finally? Common sense and communication- every last one of us is different in a lot of ways, and asking or making room to talk about things from physical contact and sex to social activity or group outings or anything else can save a lot of blunders from ever happening. All in all you can and should date trans women! Please! A lot of the best relationships I’ve ever had were with other trans girls and I don’t regret any of those. But you have to put down the pickup guides, stop seeing us as fetish dispensers and sexy lampshades, and actually deal with us as people, first.

[rmstitanics]

* GENERAL OBSERVATIONS, PART THREE.

ASTEROIDS & CELESTIAL BODIES

ASTEROID ORPHEUS (3361) CONJUNCT CHIRON may represent one who looks to their past for creative inspiration. They’ll often use their preferred form of art in an attempt to understand traumatizing events or process any emotions that may still linger.

ASTEROID APOLLO (1862) in the 8H could signify an individual who enjoys creating or consuming media about controversial and dark topics.

When I see ASTEROID PANDORA (55) in the 10H, I immediately wonder whether the individual with this placement has experienced some sort of chaos or crises regarding their public image. Maybe they’ve had traumatic experiences with their main circle of friends, or maybe they’ve even received some level of backlash on social media for a flawed interaction. Whatever these natives have endured, they probably yearn to control public perception of their character in an attempt to prevent misunderstandings.

Check which house ASTEROID ARISTOTELES (6123) is located in within your natal chart to find where you crave the most knowledge and wisdom! As an example, I have my Aristoteles asteroid in the 8H of transformative experiences, death, and “taboo” topics — and I’m now a practicing divination witch who enjoys paranormal investigation.

Due to difficulty with turning intuitive ideas into real achievements, 9H CHIRON individuals might find the process of outlining an essay or project to be particularly challenging. They’re the types of students who change their thesis a bunch of times before a paper’s due date.

PLANETS IN SIGNS & HOUSES

SATURN 1H placements might have people pleasing tendencies at some point in their lives due to a fear of never meeting others’ expectations.

SAGITTARIUS SATURNS likely grew up in households where one or both parents was strict and / or religious. The challenge awaiting these folks in life is to pursue exploration of knowledge outside of what was taught to them in their youth. They probably enjoy philosophy or history, and could possibly grow up to be spiritual but not religious.

LEO MERCURY placements, was your writing style ever described as “flowery” by your teachers or fellow students before? Because this placement TOTALLY gives me the vibes of a flowery and dramatic writing style.

One could theoretically use their JUPITER placement to discover two things: 1) The field of study where they have experienced the most growth throughout their academic career and / or 2) their best academic subject. To do this, look at Jupiter’s degrees and house. I have CANCER JUPITER placed in the 9TH HOUSE in my chart, and I absolutely adore law, history, and philosophy! However, I’ve had to undergo the most growth in Cancerian concepts such as life skills in the home and actively listening to others.

CAPRICORN JUPITERS are prone to having a “the end justifies the means” philosophy when it comes to achieving their goals. They also might struggle with perspective taking / putting themselves in others’ shoes, particularly when they perceive the individual in question as someone outside of what they consider “normal”.

6H MOONS strike me as the type who love being around animals MUCH more than they love being around people, especially if the majority of their personal planets are in a water sign.

ASPECTS

SUN SQUARE URANUS indicates memorable students whose teachers / professors will remember them for many years to come.

Hard MERCURY-PLUTO aspects could struggle with maintaining a consistent routine for studying, especially if Mercury is in retrograde in the chart.

MERCURY TRINE JUPITER placements LOVE yapping in class, but it’ll either be with their peers while the teacher is talking or by frequent class participation. If you’re the class participation type, you’ve probably had a teacher say “does anyone OTHER than (your name) know the answer?” before 😭

Although this placement does make for great activists who are not afraid to call out injustice when they see it, LILITH CONJUNCT MERCURY folks NEED to prioritize being tactful due to a natural tendency to bluntly say whatever’s on their mind with no filter.

SATURN-NEPTUNE aspects need to practice intense discernment when it comes to politics — fact check everything and don’t just believe everything you see / hear on the internet or news without taking the time to research it for yourself!

Hard ASCENDANT-SUN aspects tend to be noticeably different people in public versus private spaces. Your first impression of them will likely be VERY different from the truth of the person that they are behind closed doors.

MIDHEAVEN OPPOSITE VENUS placements are amazingly creative individuals whose art may play a major role in their own identity, but they simultaneously might have a major fear of sharing that art with others. Peer review in class is an absolute NIGHTMARE for them.

[crazylittlejester]

Been thinking about my Royal Depths au lately. the one with the kid Ganon. I will draw the au again probably within the next two months lamo.

Anyways, since I’ve been thinking about that au, I also remembered that one ask I sent you, where I asked what art style you would like to see a loz game have. Combining these two idea, I’ve got another question for you:

What would you like a new LoZ game/story to be about? Like, in RD I made the main character Ravio and had a itty bitty Ganon as one of his party members. What would your LoZ game be about? Would it be a sequel of sorts to another game, or just have some calls backs to another game(like maybe hw who knows 😏)? Would Link be the main character, or would it be a different character like Zelda(like with eow), or maybe a new character that would have an interesting perspective on the LoZ world(like idk a zora or fairy)?

Anyways uh. You’re creative and I like seeing your ideas. You could picture the game to look like the game art style you said earlier(I think it was an Alice in Wonderland type game? Idk it also kinda reminded me of Don’t Starve, art style wise if that rings any bells), if that makes things easier. Idk, with EoW around the corner I’ve been pondering about new LoZ stories like a mad man.

Hope all of this made sense, and have a great rest of your day!

I took a sec to answer this because I have SERIOUS thoughts about it and wanted to make sure i’d have the time to write it all out alskdkddk

i mentioned this about a month ago, and i would absolutely love to write this in fic form one day, and i plan to, it will just take me a LONG time but this is the storyline I would give a Zelda game if I had the power to make one:

I think of “Zelda” as a middle name of sorts, I think each princess has her own first name, but the first daughter of the royal family has that as a middle time and will end up going by that. The protagonist of this game? The eldest daughter of the royal family, and she cannot for the life of her figure out how to get those powers Hylia should’ve gifted her. Ganondorf is becoming more and more of a threat every day, and there’s nothing she can do about it except make sure he can’t get his hands on the triforce, which she’s just barely accomplishing. She thinks it her duty to be out there on the front lines getting shit done because if she can’t do the one thing she’s supposed to (unlock her powers) you best believe she’s out there with a sword kicking ass. She’s also trying to find Link because if the world is ending then there HAS to be a hero, but she literally find him and is getting really frustrated

I would give Ganon a much more compelling story. He’s not born evil, he’s born with as much capacity for good as anyone else, but due to the events of his childhood he becomes something terrible. No matter what he did everyone looked at him like he was going to be awful. They treated him poorly, nothing he could do was right in the eyes of ANYONE. He WANTED to break the cycle, but he couldn’t so to get everyone to just stop and leave him alone he’s seeking total control over everything because in his mind he’ll feel like he can breathe if he does

Now where the fuck is Link you may be asking? Well I firmly believe Hylia is a bit of a gatekeeper (/j) and will only give her magic to the eldest DAUGHTER in her bloodline. No man gets her powers, no thank you. So when the protagonist’s little sister, out of pure panic and desperation, makes an attempt to stop Ganon from destroying Hyrule Castle and her powers roar to life, the three main characters all stop and stare at each other for a minute because what the hell how did the younger sibling do that??

It is at this point the oldest ‘daughter’ realizes officially even Hylia knew he was trans before he did (he’d had his suspicions but this whole thing just confirmed it for him), and he hauls ass to get the Master Sword because with his little sister’s goddess given powers revealed he realizes HIS place in this whole hot mess, he’s Hylia’s HERO not her DAUGHTER, and he and the new Zelda use the power of supportive gay siblings to bonk Ganon over the head hard enough he just factory resets

And then they have group therapy /hj

So yeah, the REAL quest to find Link was the gender journey we had along the way

[ultrajtb]

Finally back to the SS rewrite. Got through the lack of motivation. This is gonna be a long one so enjoy.

So Dark died, and light is essentially hospitalized.

Things calm down for a bit as rainbow takes light to try and heal him.

Nightmare shows up looking for rainbow. He struggles in the search and decides to use a machine to clone himself so he can cover more ground. The process leaves him weaker though so he reversed it and goes to continue his search

Eventually he tracks down rainbow and light, capturing the two and trapping them in the nightmare dimension.

(Side Note: I think conceptually it’d be cool if the dimension was made through manipulating an end crystal to forge a pocket dimension of his own.)

So light goes missing and Rainbow is left heavily weakened.

Nightmare eventually drags Sabre into the nightmare realm too, while stranded, Sabre finds rainbow in a crater with half of his color gone and his powers clearly not working right. He puts rainbow into a makeshift machine for the time being until he can find a way to help him. Eventually he finds nightmare harvesting shadow stone and gets the idea to steal some so he can potentially use it to help rainbow.

After getting the shadow stone, Sabre uses several colors of wool to refine the shadow stone into the first version of rainbow stone.

Rainbow recovers after getting the rainbow stone infused into him and the two work together to track down Light Steve and find a way out.

They find light nearly dead, still suffering from his wounds and try their best to keep him alive while they build an exit portal.

Once free, the three decide to start building a base of operations that can act as a sanctuary from nightmare and any other dangers out there for them and any other remaining steves. They decided to build… The Rainbow Town (shocker, ik. I would make an attempt at revamping it myself but I don’t have the patience or equipment for it rn)

The install an area to function as a sort of hospital/infirmary type thing for light to rest in securely until he’s properly healed

So after the building is done they spend a few more months dealing with nightmare’s attempts at destroying their home. They start planting rainbow trees to give rainbow a power boost within the area, and plant the rainbow tree of life. The most notable event before the final fight was nightmare sending rainbow to the reverse dimension (more on that in a later post) and leaving him powerless and in such a damaged state that it begins to make him degrade mentally.

Anyway final encounter. Nightmare invades, causes damage, light tries to hold him off and gets absorbed. As Nightmare is closing in on rainbow, ready to finally just kill this nuisance, he feels a burning pain in his body. His markings and eyes start to glow white as his body begins to crack.

And then finally his body is engulfed in a burst of light as every augmentation he’s had is burned out of his body by the absorbed light Steve. When all is said and done, nightmare is left unconscious, now just a normal yellow steve and light is back, but once again critically injured, now in a comatose state.

Sabre and rainbow decide to place light inside the rainbow tree of life in the hopes that one day he will be able to heal and rejoin them. But even if he doesn’t, he finally achieved his original purpose. The original beacon of hope had finally ended the nightmare that’d plagued their people for generations.

As for nightmare steve, they opted to imprison him in a heavily secured machine deep in the rainbow town bunker, armed with a four sided lock in mechanism, lava and redstone rings as power dampeners, two full redstone batteries as emergency power, and a vault door. Essentially a maximum security solitary confinement cell.

And that’s all I’ve got for this post. Hopefully I’ll be able to make more for this series now that I’ve gotten through the part I was struggling to write out. Even now I’m not fully happy with it but it’s good enough.

As always, lmk your thoughts on what I did here and have a good day/night!

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #40: Parasite

Masterlist

content: lab whump, organs, starvation

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

However disastrous his attempt to leave may have been, it didn’t change a lot between them. Heather was upstairs all the time, so he was left to his own devices. They eventually returned to a sort of peace.

That morning, Jackie was curled up on the sofa, reading and gazing out the window at regular intervals. He had not spoken to Heather for about a week now, so he was startled when she burst into the living room.

She seemed to be preoccupied, with her hair in a rough ponytail, her white lab coat somewhat disheveled, absent-mindedly holding a pen in one hand. “Jackie, I’ve figured it out.”

He relaxed a bit, once he realized she just wanted to talk. “Yeah?”

“Yes, I’ve got it.” She hovered by the doorway, leaning one hand against the frame and clicking the pen with the other. “I think it’s a type of chemosynthesis. Wait, I’m sorry, I’m rushing—“ She held up a hand to pause him. “There’s parasites—actually, they’re probably symbiotes, but that’s not relevant. Microscopic ones. Inside you.”

“There is?” He frowned. “Can we get them out?”

“No, Jackie, you don’t understand. I’ve figured out why you’re immortal. The—the organism, it’s adapted for a specific purpose, and—“ She made a few grand gestures, trying to explain whatever abstract concept this was. “It’s… stem cells, you know?”

He did not, in fact, know. He shook his head. 

“It’s—never mind, I’ll explain it later.” She ran a hand over her hair, which only messed it up further. “I need you to come upstairs with me. To the laboratory.”

“You have a laboratory?”

“Yes, it’s upstairs.” She was already turning heel and making her way out. “Hurry up, this is absolutely crucial for my studies.”

“Okay, okay, give me a moment.” He set the book down and hurried after her, since she’d already reached the hallway by that point. He did wonder what she was doing up there. It must have been important, considering how impatient she was acting.

He followed her up the stairs. The second floor was similar to the first, with a hallway leading to three different doors, plus a hatch in the roof above a folded ladder. He had only been here once, and he was blindfolded then. Heather stepped into the farthest door.

Jackie had been expecting something more theatrical, neon acids and smoke wisps and heavy-duty machinery, but it was a clinical place. Mostly clean slates of white, flat tables and counters. Very sanitized. She kept it tidy. It smelled overwhelmingly of chemicals, the same chemicals she cleaned her surgical tools with, which he recognized instantly. There were a few microscopes and sets of glassware, and other instruments he couldn’t name or recognize. Behind another door was a smaller area, what might have once been a walk-in closet or perfume room. There stood a deep freezer, buzzing and humming in the background, and shelves of storage, even more tools and containers all neatly lined up.

“Nice place,” he told her.

“Thank you.” She turned to him, holding a scalpel. “Don’t worry, I just need your skin.”

Ah. His… skin. “All of it?”

She shook her head with a slight, amused smile, before returning to neutral professionality. “A very small amount. I’m studying your cells, you see. I wanted a fresh sample.”

He did not trust her around scalpels, but it was better to just get it over with. He held his arm out. “Go ahead.”

She nodded once, then slid the blade across the side of his arm, where the skin wasn’t so close to the bone. It was a quick and precise motion, like ripping a sticker off. He winced and bit back a hiss of pain. She then placed the cut of skin onto a small, transparent plastic rectangle. It must have been satisfactory, because she nodded in its direction and set it down on a table.

Jackie watched blood well up in the wound, shallow though it was. Heather reached over and pressed a cotton band-aid over it.

“Thanks.” He lowered his arm. “Was that all you needed me for?”

“Yes, but you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.” She moved a few things around, set a few things up—he wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing, as she had her back turned to him. “As long as you’re quiet. I prefer working in silence.”

He entertained her offer for a few minutes but quickly grew bored. Whatever she was working on, he didn’t understand any of it. He didn’t even know where he would start asking questions—maybe why do I have a parasite in me, for starters. But he was sure that she would explain it all in good time, once she finished her examinations. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Then they were back to their normal routine, back to the experiments, though Jackie thought these ones were much more pleasant than the drugs and the cassette tapes. They mostly did not involve him. He spent his days like that, reading or lounging by the window, sleeping on the couch or in the basement, killing time. He was allowed to wander around and do as he pleased, though he did visit Heather from time to time.

The organism, as it turned out, was what allowed him to heal so quickly. It had something to do with stem cells, although she couldn’t give him a straight answer. The important discovery, so she said, was that the organism could only exist inside his body. There was some special thing in his tissues that it needed to live. That was why it was keeping him alive. But she couldn't say what that special thing was, not for certain. Not yet, anyway.

“I don’t think you’ll age,” she told him once.

“Really? At all?”

She gave a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose you might age until thirty or thirty-five, but you won’t grow old. Aging is a form of tissue decay. If your cells can regenerate, they should be able to repair that damage. But I guess I wouldn’t know. We’ll see.”

Alive, even when it was inconvenient for him. Parasite was the right word. It was not symbiosis. 

“That’s cool,” he said.

“Yes, it’s all very fascinating.” She continued musing over a few microscope slides.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

She explained how the organism’s eggs hatched within seconds, the way it could multiply like a hutch of rabbits given a few minutes. The mature specimens could be killed with prolonged pressure or radiation, but the eggs were much more difficult to get rid of. Unless they left his body, at which point they would promptly die. She explained the marvelous regeneration of his stem cells, their undifferentiated, pluripotent, embryonic nature. She spoke of how it was nearly impossible to separate them from his tissues to prevent healing, how a lone cell could divide itself until they repopulated. He was even present for a few of her more exciting experiments.

“Wait behind me,” she said.

She had allowed him to follow her outside, where she had set up a Roman candle. She lit the base of a punk-stick with a lighter then tipped it forwards.

The Roman candle smoldered for a few seconds. She stepped back at a safe distance, meanwhile, putting her arm against his chest so he would do the same.

The explosive set off, amid a patch of ground cleared from snow. His heart—removed from his body, of course, and placed beside the explosive—was decimated to a few chunks of char. Bright sparks popped in the sky above them. And then, slowly but surely, the marred lump reformed, cracking and blooming into another heart. The flesh was rather discolored and misshapen. It wasn’t a pretty thing, but it was there.

“It would heal better in your body,” she explained. “The other tissues could provide healthier cells. It’s the same thing with low levels of radiation—it’s replaced your natural immune system, by the way.”

“Oh?”

“That’s why you never get sick. Even if something gets damaged, its destroyed and replaced. That does leave the possibility of autoimmune diseases and allergies, but you were lucky in that regard.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Unfortunately, not all her research involved organs safely separated from Jackie. He enjoyed his break from being a subject, but there were some things hearts and skin samples couldn’t test. 

They were in the kitchen, about a week later. Or, Jackie was in the kitchen, and Heather had just entered. She was hovering near him with a conflicted expression, which wasn’t making it easy to enjoy his breakfast.

“Do you need something?” he finally asked her.

“Yes.” She hesitated. “I need you to not eat anything for three days.”

He glanced at the open pantry. “Starting now?”

“That would be ideal.”

He pushed the pantry door closed with a disappointed expression. “Whatever you say, doc.”

It was a great contribution to science, she told him. It could help a lot of people, she told him. It could be incredibly valuable! Really, what was three days when compared to this piece of eternal knowledge? They could learn how he managed to survive without food—they could discover how he accomplished the impossible! It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Still, whatever she told him couldn’t change the fact that he had to starve for seventy-two hours. He had done it before, and he could do it again, but he wouldn’t enjoy it. 

During this period, he mostly lay in his bed in the basement, trying not to think of the kitchen with all its glorious treasures, every piece of food just out of reach. He considered stealing, but ultimately decided against it. Mainly because all the food was locked away. A padlock on the fridge, and one on each pantry door. Where Heather got all those locks from, he had no clue. But he would have given in if he could. The first hours of hunger were always the worst.

By the end he was rewarded with a bowl of pasta, and Heather with her answers: the organism produced energy for him when his body starved. It could create the necessary substances under certain circumstances, using certain chemical reactions, although it was only enough to keep him alive. Hence, the headaches and the fatigue. Jackie barely listened to any of this, however. The food preoccupied all his attention.

In the end, Heather might have thought these things were crucial discoveries, the crux of scientific knowledge, but he couldn’t care less. His worries had narrowed mostly down to base needs—food, water, shelter, a safe place to sleep. It concerned him a little, that he had reverted to such an undignified state of mind. Only animals thought of survival. People thought of living beyond that, to understand their nature, to have awareness and choice. But he wasn't in a position to want something more.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump

[wendingways]

ROTS Padmé time travels to AOTC AU

AU where Padmé dies at the end of ROTS and wakes up in 22 BBY, on the night of Zam Wesell's assassination attempt.

Padmé wakes up, rolls over, and realises she hasn’t been able to do that this easily for months. Remembers everything that happened in the past couple of days. And realises her babies are nowhere in sight.  And it’s dark, but this looks a hell of a lot like her room in the senate apartment complex.  And oh shit, what’s that shadow moving along the wall?

She doesn’t know how she got back here, or where her children are, but she does know the galaxy is not a safe place for her right now, and shadow-skulkers are rarely up to any good.  So, she grabs her blaster from under her pillow and shoots. Voila, dead assassin bugs.

Anakin predictably comes running (and Obi-Wan too).  Padmé turns the blaster on him.  But he’s very young.  Obi-Wan is also very young.  And Padmé is very confused.

Anakin is like, “Hey, what are you pointing that thing at me for?  I’m supposed to be protecting you!”

And then her eyes focus on the long braid hanging over his shoulder.  Short hair. 

I hold that finding Padmé aiming a blaster at him would make Anakin a little less prone to AOTC-type creepiness.

And then it all starts to maybe-kind of-sort of make sense.  No kids.  Young Anakin.  The dead bugs on the floor.  Is it really possible that the Force sent her back in time as she died?

Obi-Wan still goes out the window after the droid.  Anakin stays behind, however, because Padmé’s Force presence feels distinctly rattled, and she still looks frazzled, and he’s not at all sure she should be left alone.

Padmé, alone with Anakin and not exactly comfortable with it, tries for humor.  She points to the bugs.  “Want a midnight snack?”  Anakin just stares at her.  Oh, right.  She hasn’t found out about that particular dietary habit of his yet, in this timeline.

Anakin is a little perplexed as to why there’s the slight ring of an inside joke to her words?

They clean up the bug carcasses, he returns to the living room, and she goes back to bed and has a long cry.

She hears a clattering from the kitchen, and a little later, Anakin knocks on her door.  “You okay?  I thought… I brought you tea?  Obi-Wan always says this one’s good for when you’re feeling… uh… unsettled.”

Padmé is torn between equally strong desires to deal him a good, hard slap and to bury her face in his tunic and pretend the next three years haven’t already happened.  Neither of which is appropriate at this juncture, so she compromises, and graciously accepts the tea.

She still goes into refuge.

Debates not even trying to show up for MCA vote, because she knows clones are already there, on Kamino.  She knows Palpatine will weasel his way into getting an army even if the majority votes against MCA.  And hell, she knows the vote will fail.  So what’s the point?

But decides the point is to strengthen her faction and demonstrate her position.  She needs to build her coalition.  The good news is she already knows who she’ll be able to trust, so she can get them together faster, and then focus on recruiting more difficult allies.

She wears much more sensible clothes for refugeeing.

On the way to Naboo, she asks Anakin if he’s heard from Shmi lately.  A perfectly normal conversation topic.

“No.  I’ve been having dreams, though.  Of Mom, she’s hurt, she’s dying, and—Obi-Wan says it’s nothing, but I just… they feel real.”

“I have a friend who’s spent time on Tatooine,” Padmé said.  “I’ll ask her if she can get in touch with your mom, if that will give you some peace of mind.”

“Really?  You would do that?”

“Of course. 

Then she calls Sabé, and she’s like, “Hey, I need you to meet me and a friend in Mos Espa, and pretend that you found out that Shmi Skywalker was freed by and married Cliegg Lars, and lives on his moisture farm near Anchorhead.”

Sabé is like, “Ohhh… kaayyy….”

“I’ll tell you the whole story,” Padmé says, “but later, in person.  First, there’s something I need you to help me with.”

A couple days into their trip, Padmé tells Anakin that Sabé reported Shmi is no longer with Watto, but she was able to find out where she went.

And Padmé’s like, “You know… we could always go to Tatooine instead.  I’d probably be safer there than on Naboo, really.  No one will think to look for a spoiled Mid-Rimmer on that dustball.”

Padmé and Anakin arrive in Mos Espa, and Sabé takes them straight to the Lars farm.

Padmé praying that a few extra days will buy them enough time to save Shmi.  She knows she should be grateful for the chance she was given, but damn it, why couldn't the Force have dropped her even just a little farther back in time?

When Anakin heads out to go to Tusken camp, Padmé is like, "We're coming with you.”

He protests, because she needs to stay safe, but she’s like, “If you want to talk about unsafe, how about running off without backup?  Sabé was a queen’s bodyguard, don’t forget, and I have the same training.”  And three years more practical experience.

Anakin relents, mostly because no way he’s going to out-stubborn both Padmé and Sabé. 

Padmé gets water, maybe other med things, blanket?  And then she and Sabé head out with Anakin.  She’s determined that there will be no slaughter today.

They get there, Shmi’s not good.

Padmé her hand on Anakin’s shoulder as they approach.  Steady.  I’m here.  Sabé is here.  You’re not alone.  Shmi’s going to be okay.  I hope.  If she isn’t, Sabé has orders to shoot Anakin with a stun bolt while Padmé distracts him.  After that… Padmé supposes she would have to call the Jedi, and she and Sabé would just have to keep stunning Anakin until one of the Order arrives to deal with him.  Tough love.  She prays it won’t come to that.

“Sabé, stand guard.  Anakin, help me get your mother loose.  Give her a little of the water.”  She needs to keep him focused on being useful, and not on thoughts of bloody vengeance. Has she always been this unrattled in a crisis, or is she keeping her cool only through her determination to change the future?  Padmé doesn’t even know.

Man, if Anakin fell in love with Padmé before, he really will now that she's helped save his mom.

She has a bit of euphoria from averting disaster, and then she sees Anakin staring moodily out, saber in hand.  Oh, no.

“I hate them.”

“I know.”

“Jedi aren’t supposed to hate, but I want them to hurt.  Like they hurt her.”

“I know.  I've hated the Neimoidians ever since they invaded my planet.  Hating those who harm us is a natural reaction.  Just... it doesn't mean we have to act on it, you know?  Because then we aren't acting any better than the people we hate."

She places one hand over his, and with the other gently tugs on the lightsaber.  “Let me keep this for you.  Just until you’ve got some distance from all of this.  I don’t want you to do something you might regret, Ani.”

He lets go, and she hooks the saber to her own belt.

“Come on.  Let’s get your mom home.”

He gives a jerky nod.  “Okay.”

Padmé tries to draw Anakin out, have actual conversations instead of terrible flirting, and give him options so he doesn't feel that he's stuck in the Jedi Order.

"Anakin... I know, years ago, Master Jinn said you would be a Jedi one day, and I know you wanted to then, but... people change, you know?  And there's nothing wrong with that.  I just want to make sure... that you know you aren't trapped, if you find it's not for you.  I have lots of connections, if you ever need them, or even if your family does."

She takes a moment, lies down, stretched out in the sun, on the sand.  Just being.

Anakin wanders over.  "What the kriff are you doing?"

"I'm enjoying being alive.  It's something I didn't appreciate often enough, before I... before now, I guess."  Teasingly, she adds, "Why don't you come join me, Ani?"

His nose wrinkles in disgust.  “No thank you.  I hate sand.  It’s coarse, and rough, and irritating—and it gets everywhere.”

“If you say so.”

She gets up, and proceeds to shake sand out of her clothes.  And hair.  Anakin gives her an I-told-you-so look, as Beru tells her not to track sand inside because it gets everywhere and she just cleaned the floors.  And then a wounded look, as he dodges a handful of sand she tosses at him.

“Sorry,” she tells him, only half meaning it.  “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“A long time?”

Oh, kriff.

“Yes.  Five minutes feels like forever when you’re waiting to throw sand at someone.”

Padmé tells Sabé everything?  And then she's not keeping secrets from her like before.

"You're not getting together with that idiot Jedi again."

"Not right away."

"Not ever, you hear me, Padmé Amidala?  I will fight you, knock you out cold, and carry you away to some hidden corner of the galaxy before I let you throw your life away like that."

"If you tried to fight me, you’d lose.  I've had more practical experience than you at this point, Sabe.  But I'll be careful, I promise.  I'll only do it if I see that I can trust him.  And only once Palpatine is out of the way.  I, we've, already kept Anakin from the first step toward the Sith.  We can do the rest.  Shorten the war.  Save the Republic."

A few days later, Anakin finds Padmé in the kitchen, reading from her datapad.

“I just wanted to say—thank you, Padmé.  You… you really are an angel.  If you hadn’t suggested calling Sabé, and if you hadn’t been there tonight—well, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“I know.  It’s terribly cliché, but that’s what friends are for.”

“Friends?”

She can see the disappointment he tries to hide.

“Yes, Ani.  I hope I can call you my friend.”

“It’s just… I thought, maybe…”

She lays the datapad aside and gestures for him to join her at the table.

“I was in a whirlwind romance once.  It ended very badly.  I can’t do that again.  I won’t.  I… I like you very much.  But I need you to give me time, and space.”

Geonosis happens.  Padmé tells Anakin to be careful before they part and he fights Dooku.

“Be careful, Ani.  Try to come back in one piece, okay?”

And Anakin, being in a much more balanced frame of mind than he was in the original timeline, actually heeds her and isn’t quite so arrogant when it comes to fighting Dooku.

As the war goes on, Padmé builds an anti-war, anti-Palpatine coalition.  It goes faster this time, because she knows who she should reach out to and what arguments to use

Gives them all more time to spend on recruiting other senators to the cause.

She also does some work to dig up dirt on Palpatine.

Has the Handmaidens quietly investigate his estate, financial affairs, or whatever on Naboo, too?

Padmé gets closer to the Jedi Order, spends more time with Ahsoka when she can, and gets Ahsoka to introduce her to Barriss.

Tells Barriss if she ever needs a confidante outside the Order, she’s here.

Consequently, Barriss goes to Padmé when she’s struggling, and Padmé talks to Anakin and Obi-Wan about getting her transferred out of active service.

Becomes either involved in Senate duties, working with Padmé’s coalition, or healing

Padmé also finds some way to minimize the damage from the Rako Hardeen incident.

She invites Satine to Coruscant for a political meeting of some sort, just before she would be imprisoned/Maul would appear

Maybe she and Anakin are a little matchmakery with Satine and Obi-Wan.

The war ends, maybe a little ahead of schedule or maybe not.  Palpatine is outed as a Sith.  Anakin has a bit of a struggle with that, but not nearly as much, and he’s able to do his Chosen One thing and help defeat him.

The Jedi look at the closeness of the crew, Barriss shares how she was floundering until Padmé stepped in.  The Jedi review their stances on attachment, etc.

Padmé and Anakin, who’ve been building a close relationship over the course of the war, marry.  Not secretly.  Shmi gets to be there.  And Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex and the rest of the 501st, and the Naberrie family.  Probably Satine, as well.

And let’s say Luke and Leia are just fated to exist, because it’s hard to imagine a SW universe without them.

I’m posting this as a bullet point AU, because frankly, I’ve been getting what seems like a crap ton of plot ideas lately, and there’s just no way I’m going to be able to write fics for them all.

If anyone wants to pick this up and run with it, flesh it out, make a oneshot or a multichapter fic or whatever, be my guest! (Please just make sure to notify and credit me!)

[liquorisce]

it’s been so long since i’ve hung out here. i miss my anonymous friends, i hope u guys are well and thriving!

since this is still my writing blog, i figured i would write here about my writing and what i’m working on, and what i’m not working on.

i recently posted boy next door, which i am actually really in love with, and have completed 75% of, so for the first time ever i have SOME confidence in finishing it. i feel like it is the type of story that is so natural that there will never really be a perfect conclusion. But some meaningfully literary conclusion is plausible, lol, so i will attempt it. i am also really floored by the comments I’ve received. they’ve been really encouraging and kind, and some felt like I was being congratulated by a group of peers who have grown with me and seen changes in my writing style that i thought no one apart from me would ever notice or care about. in that way, fandom is kind of amazing because it feels like we are all in some sort of cohort together, and even in this vast space of chaos I have found some friends, and some kind souls who I can chat with in corridors, who peep in occasionally and see what I’m doing and encourage me positively in a personal manner. I am able to return this to others too. That’s pretty cool.

i had a tough situation with my health, or rather my inability to handle my health problems in an adult manner, but after many weeks of deleting social media apps and forceful grass-touching (extensive physiotherapy), i am trying to visit the online areas of my life again in moderate frequencies, because this is where I get to feel like a writer. I do not get to feel like a writer in my 40h a week IT consultancy job LOL. There are no artists for miles, unfortunately and it feels like I’m going insane sometimes, being around normies. (jk, maybe… not)

people have asked if i’m giving up on idily and i’m really not, the next chapter is just a tricky one, so it’s taking a while. We are now moving into a really plot-heavy part of the story, which is definitely new territory for me as far as my skills are concerned, so I’m doing a lot of writing ideas and staring at unmoving pages etc. It’s fine, I’m not despairing, as long as I’m still in love with the general story we’ll get somewhere. I will post chap 10 after I have written Chap 11 as well I’m thinking, so that I can be a bit more certain of how we’re moving with this story. Either way, expect rewrites and detail revisions bc I’m unreliable.

Darling - which is largely just a personal project that I envision in the shape of Ymir and Historia (and Rod Reiss) - will also resume. The way Darling gets updated is like so: it feels like a fever dream of craziness, all tinted red and then I get desperate and open my gdocs and blurt out some melodramatic shit. It’s an interesting process and maybe I can make it work bc the whole point is that the story is told through the form of “love letters” from an unreliable narrator. It’s fun, and kind of crazy, and I hope I can finish it this year.

as the life of a fic writer is constantly burdened by wips, i decided to try @/ betts’s method of triaging wips. (her writing advice is amazing, gospel). so realistically these are the three stories i will update this year (and hope foolishly to complete): Darling, IDILY & Boy Next Door. If I finish even one, I’m throwing a party fr. But I will try my best at all 3, regardless. Oh, and I’m participating in a KV Mini Bang (Trigun), so I will be posting an absolutely filthy one shot by the end of the year. But this means ALL other stories are either Rolled off to next year or abandoned. I will make another post about the specifics once I am done with the diagnosis part of the triage. But I feel kinda happy that I am limiting my scope to this for the year (it’s still a LOT, lol).

In terms of original writing: I have quite some ideas floating around… some have made it onto their own google docs, some are flowing via rewrites (bylb for example) and have made moderate progress, another is vaguely brewing in my mind in a way that makes me want to write a short story of it first and try to submit it somewhere first… or post it on ao3 lol, idk. but the idea is exciting: it is an indian sapphic love story which goes strong on the forbidden love themes (and infidelity). it’ll be the first time i’m writing something that is so close to my experience growing up, so i am curious to see how that turns out.

anyway, i’m going to try to do this more often, i.e, at least once more before the year ends :)

(if anyone is reading) see u next time!

[cobrakatharsis]

amanda looks and johnny and then, leaning closer to daniel, whispers something. it's a dirty thing, the type it would make the devil blush, the type it makes daniel blush, because he has been avoiding these thoughts for the sake of his marraige.

anon i love you

daniel’s definitely been neck deep in trying so damn hard to repress himself. he feels guilty for sure, thinks he certainly shouldn’t be thinking these things when he’s got amanda and loves her so much. but it’s impossible to not look at johnny, not feel those desires - ranging from sweetly kissing his nose to tracing a hand down his bare arm in that sleeveless gi to dragging him into a bathroom and making him see god every time he’s being just that bit too annoying.

he knows deep down amanda would be supportive, but he’s worried it’ll mean sacrificing everything with her. especially worried that she’d be disgusted or - god forbid - afraid of the depths of his desires, exactly what he wants to do to johnny.

(get him on his knees. make him cry and beg and whine, wrench his head back by those golden locks, hear him say “daniel” like a prayer - or maybe “sir” or “daddy” or whatever else daniel’s in the mood for, fuck him hard and rough until he’s wet and open and boneless, leave him twitching and whimpering and crying and kiss him until he calms, make a good sweet boy out of him.)

so he keeps it all tamped down and prays she won’t notice. but she does. of course she does. and she’s human herself - she looks at johnny and thinks some unholy things, and the vast majority of them feature johnny being wrecked by her husband.

so, after a little while of observing daniel’s latest foray into repression, she starts sharing.

johnny’s being taught in the ways of zen by daniel, in another ambitious attempt to get him understand miyagi-do. it’s just the three of them around the dojo, and amanda’s largely been floating around doing other work anyway to give the two men some privacy, but when she floats over and sees johnny settling into a yoga pose, bent over on the floor - forehead to the ground, knees apart, back arched, ass in the air - and daniel looking like he’s choking on his own tongue trying to keep his composure, she joins her husband. leans over his shoulder to whisper in his ear like she does, usually when they’re at events and sharing things that’d make others blush.

“he looks good like that, doesn’t he?”

“yeah,” daniel says, absently. then, head spinning to her, “what?”

he sounds caught. it’s cute. amanda smiles at him and continues on.

“he looks good like that,” she casually nods to johnny to clarify, gaze travelling over his form to prompt daniel to do the same, and she sees the appreciation in his eyes as he does. sees it elsewhere too, tenting his loose workout trousers. “bet he’d look even better with those cute little shorts pulled down. back arched like that, i bet you could see his hole begging for you. bet you could hear it out of that sweet little mouth too. i just know he begs pretty. you should go find out.”

“i can’t,” daniel chokes out, looking dumbfounded. his cheeks are bright red. “i—he—you—“

she hums sympathetically, stroking her husband’s back. “daniel. you really think a boy bends over and arches his back like that if he’s not silently begging someone to come fuck him blind?”

“it’s the yoga pose!”

“of course, honey. it’s the yoga pose. and johnny lawrence is certainly experienced enough in yoga to pull that pose off perfectly. and do it with his perky little ass pointed right at you. come on, i’ve seen the way he looks at you. haven’t you?”

“…how does he look at me?”

“like he wants to get on his knees as much as you want him to.” she leans closer, lips brushing the shell of daniel’s ear. “and he stares at your cock through your pants, like he’s thinking aaaall sorts of things. namely, i imagine, how bad he wants it. in that pretty mouth, shutting him up. or fucking him into complacency, in his hole which i imagine’s just as pretty.”

daniel swallows. she can feel the arousal rolling off of him, see him fully hard in his trousers.

“now, i’m going to go do some reading,” she says. “you boys have fun.”

warmly, she kisses daniel on the cheek and walks away, collecting her paperback from her bag as she goes. she finds a nice place to sit and for a little while loses herself in the novel - carmen recommended it, and it really is good - until she hears the distinct thud of someone being tossed down against the wooden floors, and the steadily crescendoing music of johnny being fucked within an inch of his life.

he really does make beautiful noises. maybe next time she’ll ask to watch a little closer.

[fruit-of-infidelity]

♱  DIABOLIK LOVERS: Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sakamaki Shuu | Maniac 5½  ♱

⌜ Scene: Sakamaki Library ⌟

Yui: Pwah…

( It’s no use, trying to study. I can’t clear my head. )

( All my thoughts… They keep coming back to Shuu-san. )

( …I wonder if I’ll ever be able to understand someone like that? Someone that just seems to be toying with me day after day… )

… …

ー From her pressure, the graphite tip of the pencil snaps against her book. ー

Ah, it broke…

???: You seem troubled.

Yui: E-Eeh!?

ー Ryuuto suddenly appears, leaning against the table. ー

Ryuuto: Fufu, you are still quite the jumpy one, aren’t you?

That expression of yours, however... Should the wind change*.

Yui: Ryuuto-san… Appearing out of nowhere like that…

W-Were you spying on me…!?

Ryuuto: What if I was? Are you to scold me?

Consider me the angel on your shoulder; I come you to in times of need, offering a merciful means out of your intriguing dilemma.

Yui: Calling yourself an angel…

Ryuuto: I’m certainly more angelic than your chosen Sakamaki, hm?

ー Ryuuto closes the book in front of Yui. ー

Even after the countless mishaps you have found yourself in, courtesy of your “owner”, you still seem hopeful of the very best for him.

I know I don’t fail to understand it because of my own incompetency, either; Even that Sakamaki Reiji has attempted to dissuade you, no?

Yet… you still urge him to class, dress him, feed him. Are you his mother, or his prey?

Yui: N-Neither!!

Ryuuto: Then why burden yourself?

Yui: I-It’s simply a matter of, if no one helps Shuu-san, he won’t help himself!

Ryuuto: Then this is your idea of a noble crusade, hm?

Yui: …Hmph. Are you even supposed to be here?

Ryuuto: I said I would give you some time to reconsider my offer, didn’t I?

So, I did just that… I waited; I was patient. And now, I’ve returned as promised, to hear your final verdict on the matter.

Yui: I… I thought I said I was fine with my decision.

Shuu: “Fine”, eh?

Yui: K-Kyaa!!

ー Shuu spooks Yui, appearing beside Ryuuto. ー

Y-Yes, fine!

( W-Was Shuu-san lurking and watching this whole time? )

Ryuuto: So, you were paying attention to our conversation?

Shuu: Barely… But when three of those five others are gossiping about a sudden stale smell in the library, I could barely get any sleep.

They wouldn’t leave me be until I looked for myself.

Ryuuto: …Fufu, don’t take my visit to heart, Sakamaki Shuu.

Although, surely, you’ve caught up to date? Would you not agree that it would be far less of a hassle to leave her in more capable hands?

Shuu: Yeah. You’re right.

Yui: Wh-What …!?

Shuu: It would be easier just to let you take her off my hands.

Yui: W-Wait a moment, what do you mean by that?

Ryuuto: Don’t play daft; The head of the house is finally making worth-while proposals.

Yui: Sh-Shuu-san, you c-can’t be serious…!

Shuu: It’d be easier for you too, right? So what’s with the protest?

━─┉┈◈ Selection ◈┈┉─━

　　❈  You're mine!

Yui: O-Obviously because I picked you!

S-So who are you to turn around and give me away to someone else!?

Shuu: Are you trying to claim ownership over me or something?

Heh, how lewd, trying to assert some sort of dominance… It’s no wonder, with that sort of fascination, you don’t wanna let me go.

　　❈  I'm yours! ( ♥ )

Yui: Th-That’s because you’re the one that’s supposed to look after me right!?

Shuu: Hoh? So you’re admitting it, then?

You’re throwing yourself at my feet all of a sudden, admitting that you belong to me? Heh, who would’ve thought it…

Yui: That’s…!

( Not what I was trying to say… )

━━─┉┈┈◈◉◈┈┈┉─━━

Yui: I just mean that I’m content with my choice!

Shuu: You think everything’s about you, don’t you? What a presumptuous woman…

Are you sure this is the type of woman you want to pine after, Ryuuto?

Ryuuto: Speak for yourself; I have the decency not to throw myself upon a woman I hardly know, unlike you. Isn’t that right?

Shuu: You’ve been a peeping Tom this whole time, huh?

Ryuuto: Please do not lump me in with your perverse kind.

Shuu: Me, perverse? I’m a Vampire, I need blood.

Are you calling a Vampire perverse just because he craves blood?

Ryuuto: You know very well what I meant by that.

Shuu: A presumptuous woman and a hypocrite… What a pair.

Yui: Just a moment! C-Can we focus back on the topic before this gets out of hand?

Shuu: …Hah, this is a pain.

Yui: E-Eh!? Don’t be like that!

Ryuuto: Then, I’ll take that as my go-ahead to take what is miーー

ー Shuu grasps Yui’s waist. ー

Shuu: Guys like you should really keep their noses out of other people’s business.

Yui: …!!

Shuu: And you… Really, you’re getting off to the thrill of this all, aren’t you? Men fighting over you… You might be the most perverse one here.

ー Shuu pulls her in close. ー

You’re getting hot… Should I take you right here and now, in front of this guy? Show him exactly why you’ve chosen to stick by my side?

Yui: N-No…! That’s not what I m-meant!

Shuu: Ryuuto… Aren’t you gonna grab a chair? This woman wants to put on a show.

Ryuuto: Tsk.

ー Ryuuto doesn’t hesitate to teleport away. ー

Yui: S-Shuu-san… W-Wait a moment!

Shuu: Haa… So noisy.

Don’t scream in my ear like that.

ー Shuu backs off, walking away. ー

Yui: …!!

E-Eh?

( What… on earth was all that about? He just left!? )

( Was Shuu-san just trying to tease me again? )

( …Or was he doing that to save me from Ryuuto-san? I don’t think I’ll ever know… )

✥ TO BE CONTINUED ✥

─────── ≪ °♛° ≫ ───────

←  [ ✥ Maniac 05 ✥ ] ⎥ [ ✥ Maniac 06 ✥ ]  →

━━─┉┈┈◈ Notes ◈┈┈┉─━━

　　1.  I’m not sure if Japan has a similar saying or tale, but Ryuuto is referencing the old saying for children that, if the wind changes whilst they pull a funny face, it’ll get stuck in that expression forever.

━━──┉┈┈◈ ◉ ◈┈┈┉──━━

[prismaticstreams]

How to avoid the therapist trap: mutuality and balance in relationships

Have you ever struggled with feeling like a therapist? Do your friendships and dating relationships always seem to end up being one sided? It can be incredibly frustrating feeling like you’re always the listener, and people aren’t interested in what you have to share. 

This is a particularly common issue for women, who are generally expected to be the ones who provide emotional support in our culture. Both women and men tend to vent more to women, and expect empathy and compassion in response. It’s a very common problem for certain personality types as well, especially empathic people, highly sensitive people (HSPs), and introverts who tend to default to the listener role. Enneagram Type Twos tend to get stuck in “helping” roles in their relationships too.

To be honest, I’ve been on both sides of this. I’ve often ended up stuck being the listener, annoyed that the other person just wanted to monologue to an audience. However, I’ve also been guilty of interrupting and taking over conversations, so it’s something I have to continue to be mindful and conscious about. I try to remember that some of my friends are more introverted and quiet, and are less likely to take up space unless I ask questions and leave room for them to speak up. This requires extra effort and intentionality.

I try to consistently keep an eye on mutuality and reciprocity in my friendships. Unless it's a relationship that is supposed to be one sided, like a defined mentor/ministry/therapy relationship, then I do watch out for things getting too unbalanced. I think it's okay if things are a bit one-sided for a season - we all go through tough times - but if it's like that permanently, I would re-evaluate things.

I used to not pay attention to this sort of thing because I thought that would get me into an unhealthy "quid pro quo" mindset, but I've actually found that keeping an eye on this from the beginning of friendships has helped me form more healthy, reciprocal connections with people. This helps curb my natural tendency to give more in relationships.

Observing this from the start means I'm less likely to get resentful and frustrated down the road, because often when a friendship starts out a little bit one-sided, the imbalance gets worse as time goes on - until I reach a breaking point. Now that I'm mindful from the start, this is much less of an issue.

I think this also helps me avoid getting into "unrequited friendships", i.e. friendships where I care and like the person a lot more than they care and like me. When I give too much to other people, I sometimes miss the fact that they actually don't really like me or value the friendship as much as I do.

Before, when I gave too much, people would be happy to receive, but I later realised they didn't truly value me or my friendship. They were just enjoying the perks of free therapy etc. Giving less can help me discover who actually likes me as a person, versus just wanting the benefits of my generosity.

For instance, on a first date or meet up with a friend, consider things like:

Do they ask you questions about yourself? 

Do they listen well (e.g. can they practice active listening skills)?

Are they able to give and receive emotional support equally? 

Can they withhold unsolicited advice when you talk about something you struggle with? 

Does the conversation feel balanced, or are you mostly just listening? 

Do they message you first, or do you always have to message them first? 

Do they suggest or plan outings, or do you always have to do it?

I generally have a rule of three when it comes to reaching out or taking initiative with new people. I'm happy to message first three times, but if they don't message first after that, it's usually best to move on. Same with asking questions - I think it's okay to ask three questions in a row, but if they don't ask any back after that or make an attempt to engage with me, then they probably just like talking about themselves.

Obviously, none of these are hard and fast rules, and it’s important to trust your gut. Sometimes I have conversations where I mostly listen, and I still really enjoy it, because the topic is really interesting or I don’t feel like talking about myself in that moment. In most cases I know that if I had something I wanted to say, the other person would listen and be supportive. People may come from a cultural or family background where asking questions is viewed as intrusive, so it’s important to consider the vibe as a whole, rather than getting bogged down in the minutiae. It’s relevant to consider the level of effort in people’s responses.

Another factor, particularly on dating apps, is that people can behave very differently when texting versus in person or on the phone/video chat. I have occasionally come across dry texters who are charismatic and a lot of fun in person, though these are probably exceptional cases. If you really like someone, I’d say give them a chance and see what happens.

In certain instances, such as the workplace or a professional context, listening can be advantageous as it allows you to gain information about the other person. This way you don’t have to reveal too much about yourself, which perhaps could be used against you. So taking on the role of the listener can actually be quite strategic in certain contexts. Knowing how to ask good questions and listen effectively can serve you well in the dating scene, so you can spot red flags much more quickly and easily.

Also, some people just prefer listening, and gain energy that way - so if that’s you, more power to you! Just be conscious that you don’t get taken advantage of or used for your gifts.

In the end, the most important thing is to tune into your body and how you feel. If you feel exhausted, resentful or irritated after a conversation with someone, it’s important to pause and ask yourself why. Check in with yourself. Then consider how to set boundaries and move forward in a way that’s more sustainable for you.

[artificialqueens]

Looking At The Lights (JeLa) - Divine

A/N: I’m back again with another Christmas fic! This time inspired by Looking At The Lights. I’ve been hoping for them to release it since hearing it live, and after a year its finally out, anyways enjoy this lil JeLa hurt/comfort. :) CW: mention of death

***

As daylight savings came to an end the one hour difference felt like hundreds, typically it didn’t bother DeLa, she’d always been the type to enjoy the holidays. Hell she usually pulled out her Christmas tree November 1st, only for Jinkx, her best friend to get her to compromise with the night of Thanksgiving, though she always managed to convince Jinkx to help her put it up early. So when DeLa didn’t call her the night of Halloween expressing her excitement for the upcoming jolly season, she was alarmed, though knowing DeLa was a lightweight she thought she might’ve drank herself into a deep slumber, but she didn’t get a call the next morning either, just a normal good morning text. Jinkx brought it upon herself to FaceTime her best friend, while it was ringing she’d remembered that her nana had passed about three years ago now, from eating mistletoe of all things, but DeLa hadn’t been the same since, hadn’t been as jolly, though she attempted to put on a front, Jinkx could tell she hadn't enjoyed it the same since, only putting up tree, not traveling back home and forcing Jinkx along to spend the holidays with her family. Teena and Jinkx had been going to her home instead. DeLa answered the phone completely ready for the day as usual at the early hour only, she didn't seem as bubbly as usual. 

“Hey Dink.” She smiled, sipping her coffee. 

“No Christmas decor recruitments this morning?” Jinkx questions. DeLa’s smile fades the smallest bit as she shakes her head. 

“No, I think I’ll wait until December this year.” 

“Well that’s not like you at all, you don’t want to drag me out to the mall to all those pop up christmas shops to buy new ornaments? No new seasonal bath and body works hauls? I was actually looking forward to it this year.” 

“No.. well, not no, just not right now. I’m sure it’ll be fun when the time gets here though! Sorry to disappoint ya Dink-a-doo…” 

Jinkx frowns a little and hums, it was so strange to see the life of the party, the biggest smile in the room, be so sad, it hurt, she loved DeLa, she was probably her favorite person, despite their bickering. She wanted to see her smile, and make her laugh, which was surprisingly hard to do considering DeLa was always so busy making other people laugh she tended to always just wear a smile on her face as she tried to think of her next joke to make Jinkx cackle. 

“Are you okay with me coming over? I wanna get this whole thing kickstarted for ya.” 

“I mean, I’m not doing anything, but I’d need to clean first-“

“Oh don’t stress about it, I'll help you.” Jinkx assured her, DeLa sighs, finally giving in.

“Alright… I’ll put on some tea or something for when you get here.”

“Okay, I’ll head over right away.” Jinkx says before smooching the phone.

After finishing their goodbyes, they both hung up. DeLa was so stressed decorating was honestly the last thing she wanted to think about. She didn’t know if losing her grandmother was the only thing dragging her down so much, but more so how much the loss was affecting everyone in her family, and how everyone was expecting her to be the light at the end of some sort of depressive tunnel. While she was happy she could provide that happiness for her family, but at the same time it made her feel as if she had to hide and shelter her own feelings for their sake. 

Teena wasn’t very fond of their Nana, being the only goth in the family, moving to Chicago, refusing to follow their traditions and religion really pushed her away from them, so when she passed she was bummed but not necessarily devastated, but didn’t want to be around her family more than she had to be, she paid her respects at the funeral, but didn’t stick around for the family reunion afterwards, rather walked the neighborhood with her little sister, who was much more hurt than she was, to comfort her. Even then she expressed her fears of having to be the one to keep everyone in good spirits for the next few months or years.

Over time it had really started to work her down more through the holidays, the first year was awful, everyone was in tears, nothing felt the same, everything felt so out of order, it was so bad that DeLa announced she wouldn’t be coming home for next Christmas, that she’d rather spend it at her own home, her family didn’t appreciate her choice and called her selfish for not wanted to spend this special time of year with her family and loved ones, it hurt her to hear them all blow up on her like that, she’d never really been a negative center of attention before. She remembered having to gather her things and walk through the snow out to her car in tears with her sister and Jinkx on the phone, weeping about how she’d basically been fully isolated because of a single decision. The next two years she’d spent them at home, and didn’t feel up to it this year. 

Jinkx arrived at DeLa’s cozy vintage house, and knocked on the door, after only a short moment the door opened and DeLa smiled up at her long time friend before pulling her into a tight hug. Jinkx smiles while hugging DeLa.

“Alright honey, let’s get you in the holiday spirit, but first I’ll help you clean up.” She says walking in with her arm wrapped around her shoulder. 

DeLa’s messy was never actually messy, usually consisted of just putting things back in their place, not real mess, but she was a little surprised to see their was dishes that needed to be cleaned, shoes scattered across the living room and a few unpacked burlesque bags from shows, nothing terrible, just out of character. Jinkx plopped DeLa down on the couch before pushing the curtains open and began cleaning up, DeLa was embarrassed and felt bad, telling Jinkx she could do the cleaning and that it wasn’t the gingers responsibility, but Jinkx insisted, hair pulled up into a messy bun as she strolled around the house as if it were her own, she’d been there enough times that she knew it as well as her own home, she knew where everything went, where to find cleaning supplies. After loading up and starting the dishwasher she went over to DeLa who was curled up on the couch and was watching Jinkx’s every move.

“I'm gonna go put up these costumes and props, you go ahead and go get your Christmas stuff out of the basement okay? And we can decorate together.” Jinkx smiles. 

DeLa nod before standing up, Jinkx’s smile fades a little, maybe her frowning a bit worried was dramatic, but she just wanted her best friend to be okay. She took the bags into the packed burlesque room and began sorting through them and placing them where they belonged, it took just as long as it took DeLa to haul up her large totes full of Christmas decorations. When she stepped out to the living room she saw DeLa now kneeling on the floor, looking through the totes slowly, perhaps looking too sad as she was sulking in the glitter so much that when Jinkx turned Christmas music on using Alexa she’d jumped.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Now let's see what we’ve got here. Shall we start with the tree or.. err everything else? You’ve got a process don’t you?” Jinkx questions. 

DeLa thought for a moment before digging through a tote, mostly stockings, the tree skirt, other soft things, she pulled out a binder from the bottom, flipping it open revealing a list, trimmed in festive doodles, glued onto a piece of red construction paper, and laminated, Jinkx looked over her shoulder scanning the list..

SWITCH 

-wall decor (replace fall decor for winter, hang stockings)

-rugs, pillows, blankets, etc

-figurines 

-candles 

-wallflowers 

CHRISTMAS TREE TIME!!!! 

-lights

-garland

-ornaments 

-star

-tree skirt 

OUTSIDE: 

-“hang lights” (just plug them realistically those things never get taken down)

-put our lawn reindeer lights

-switch wreaths 

-wrap stair banisters and rails with garland

“Hmm.. detailed list.” Jinkx says, honestly impressed. 

“Thank you, I laminated it so I can just use a dry erase marker and reuse it every year.” She smiles, a genuine smile, warm and bright, making Jinkx smile in return. 

“You’ve always been one smart cookie Dooley.” Jinkx wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulders. DeLa’s face twisted in displeasure to the nickname, but it was lighthearted. 

“Thank you Dink.” She smiles resting her head against the ginger for a moment before looking back at the list. “I guess we should get started with the walls, hm? Gotta switch out the little pumpkins for little Christmas doohickeys and stockings.”

“Let’s get started then.” 

—

It was an all day job, but alas, the house was decorated, the woodsy autumn smell had shifted to the smell of sweet sugar cookies and hits of pine. The two of them were exhausted and collapsed on the couch on top of each other, cuddling while looking at the work they’d done. It warmed DeLa’s heart to see her home festive again, but that song of sadness could still be felt deep in her chest as she thought about how happy she had been in past while setting all of this up, it felt like a chore half way through and the only reason she hadn’t given up was because Jinkx was by her side helping her through it. 

Feeling like this honestly scared DeLa. She’d never been this sad before, she hated it, she just wanted to be happy again. She felt her eyes getting heavier as she was comforted by Jinkx’s sweet honeysuckle scent, wrapped up in blankets now, her thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, but Jinkx being here somehow muffled all the mean and scary voices, soothing her with her presence. 

Jinkx noticed DeLa falling asleep, though she was fighting it. Jinkx kisses her head, pulling her a bit closer, if it were possible. Letting the woman know she was there and it was okay if she wanted to sleep, she could tell that even through her drowsiness, she was still thinking about the entire world. She just wished she could switch them off for a day, let DeLa be DeLa. Once DeLa closed her eyes, Jinkx knew she’d be trapped for at least 30 minutes as DeLa was resting on top of her, she could deal with it though.

The remote being within arm’s reach helped, she reached over and flipped through a few options on Hulu, eventually settling on family guy, again, she always found herself coming back to the raunchy cartoon. She lost interest half way through an episode at some point and started scrolling through her phone, seeing a memory from this time a few years back. The two of them, in the same house, DeLa wearing a cute Christmas pinup dress matched with red stockings, on her tiptoes, not wearing heels to help her match the gingers height, holding mistletoe over their heads as she kissed Jinkx’s cheek who was smiling warmly with her arms around her friends waist. She remembered that day, it was more fun than she’d admit at the time but she remembered Ruby and Randy had both come over to help as well, the photo was Randy’s idea. She smiles down at the screen, she knew how much she adored DeLa, she wanted her heart. Brought her so much joy, she just hoped that she was able to start getting back into those happy spirits. 

DeLa stirred a little, startling Jinkx, who looked down at her, DeLa stretched making a squeaking sound before opening her eyes looking at Jinkx confused. Jinkx giggles a little. 

“You alright there?” She questions, booping her nose. 

“Yeah.. when is it?” She questioned groggily, eyes closing again, before cracking into a smile when she heard Jinkx’s cackle. 

“Same day, just a little later, you decorated your way into a small coma.” DeLa yawns as she attempts to say “oops.” and rests her head back where it previously was. 

—

As the season continued, Jinkx was making sure to keep an extra close eye on DeLa as the season continued, making sure that if she wasn’t getting better, that she at least wasn’t getting worse. Taking her out for coffee, to look at Christmas lights, all of DeLa’s favorite things to do this time of year… it seemed to be working, but Jinkx knew DeLa was particularly good at hiding how she actually felt until she burst. 

Most of the holiday season was over, yet DeLa hadn’t forced Jinkx into listening to any terrible Christmas covers of dogs or cats meowing and barking christmas songs. Jinkx knew it was time to actually sit down and talk to DeLa about the matter, regardless of what she tried to get DeLa to have some fun, it didn’t work. She’d invited her over for some coffee and festive movies since it was snowing outside at  a violent speed, she expected for DeLa to get trapped here over the night, or would at least suggest she’d stay, for her own safety and comfort; they were cuddled up on the couch when she decided it was time to bring it up. 

“DeLa..” Jinkx says softly, after placing her mug down. DeLa turns her head and hums in confusion. Seeing Jinkx’s expression she knew it was a serious matter. 

“You’re so sad, I want to fix it, but I don’t know how. I need you to stop acting like you're okay and actually tell me what’s wrong. I don’t like when you’re like this.. I miss my happy ray of light.” Jinkx frowns, turning to face her friend. 

“I-i..” DeLa pauses, seeing the concern in Jinkx’s eyes. Her lip quivered as she started sniffling, tears following shortly after. I wanna be happy… I really do, but I just can’t get past this feeling of dread, I miss when I was happy this time of year, waiting month after month to cover my house in lights and glitter, and to force you out into the snow to play around.. I really do, but I can’t bring myself to let go of this awful feeling that I don’t even really know what is! I’m so sad, and hurt and I can’t even place it, I’ve grieved my Nana enough to realize her wrongs while she was alive, my family is bitter but over it for the most part, it’s just ever since all that happened I feel like nothing but darkness comes with this time of year!” She spewed, Jinkx pulled her sobbing friend into her arms and squeezed her tight, but as if a poor situation couldn’t get worse the harsh winds of Portland stole any and all  the physical light they had, this for some reason only made DeLa cry harder. “Even the universe is out to get me!” She weeped. 

“Shh, baby it’s okay, hang on.” Jinkx says calmly, trying to sooth DeLa before getting up and going over to the fireplace full of candles and lighting them all before going around lights the loads of candles she has throughout her home. She then grabbed a few pillows and blankets, setting them up in front of the fireplace before dragging DeLa with her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders before sitting next to her. 

“DeLa. You mean the world to me, and I know you’re hurting and I’m sorry you don’t feel like yourself. I’m sorry I can’t take your sadness away, but denying it and pushing it down deeper isn’t going to make it go away, which I know how scary it can be. I’ve experienced this before, I wish you would’ve come to me about this sooner. I love you baby, I’ll always be here for you. There’s nothing you can do that will stop me from loving and supporting you, remember that okay? Now come here.” Jinkx opens her arms as DeLa scooted over, basically into her lap as she held her close. 

“That really means a lot to me Dink, and makes me feel better about all of this.. not completely, but knowing you’re here beside me really helps..” She starts tearing up again and sniffles. 

Jinkx smiles sympathetically before gently grabbing her face and kissing DeLa sweetly, not something they did often, this one felt different from others they’d had, but Jinkx liked the feeling, it was warmer, filled with love. Jinkx pulled away to rest her head against DeLa, surrounded by the darkness, looking at the lights.

[humanransome-note]

Week of nov. 16-a rant in three days and many bullet points

Monday

my aunt picked me up. She had been exposed to COVID and told me as such. We took all necessary precautions on the drive home—open car windows, she wore an N95, we didn’t hug or anything. But honestly I am not concerned at the time, she had been exposed to COVID several times, and even when my uncle, her husband who she lives with caught it twice, she did not.

Tuesday

The day is sort of okay, but the other cashier/my cover for lunch is late. I mention this to my manager and she says “Oh Alexis isn’t late, she was moved to 3-9” My shift ends at 2 and I should’ve had “lunch” at about 11. At this point it is already 12:30.

No one told me about this shift change.

We have a rush, so I can’t leave for my very late lunch. (Like I’m allowed to leave, but my anxiety and “work ethic” won’t let me)

Rush ends, it’s 1:30 give or take.

“Hey, would you mind staying until about 3-3:30?”

My aunt texted me she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t pick me up so I said sure.

Don’t pick up my phone again until 3:00.

Aunt: I tested positive, isolation for the next five days.

Wednesday

I tell my manager, who has noticed I’m wearing a face mask today, what happened. She said to keep her updated on how I’m feeling.

So I start my day as I usually do, look for petty things to occupy my time until a customer comes up to buy something.

First customer comes up, and the register is a bit slower than usual, at this point I just think it’s cause it had a reboot earlier.

‘‘Twas not the case.

For the entire day, the main register “my register” was slower than usual. Like it would take a good twenty seconds for rung items to show up on screen. I would scan a coupon and instead of the fun little woosh of discounts the whole thing just froze before all the information popped up on screen.

In the distance of the line, I see a woman.

A woman who, I swear to good, just grabbed the fucking display rack of frame ornaments and put them in her cart.

Eight (8) pegs, twelve (12) ornaments each.

And these aren’t all the same ornament, they’re the same price but not the same ornament.

So, doing what I think is logical, I move over to the “Manager register” the good register, with the scanning gun that doesn’t throw a fit every ten seconds, rebooting with its little ”doot doot doto” every time something knocks it, the one that scans receipt barcodes unlike mine where I have to type in the string of numbers on top. Roughly forty (40) digits.

So as I’m scanning this woman’s items(she had more than just 96 photo frame ornaments) my manager shouts at me from over the wall/shelf thing that separates me from the rest of the store.

“That’s the manager’s register, you can’t use it.”

I try to explain the issue, but I’ve got a woman in front of me, recounting her NINTY-SIX ORNAMENTS and a fucking line. I do not have the time or the patience to explain to her that my register likely needs a reboot, and that I couldn’t just do a quantity override, and that even if I did I didn’t know where she was and/or how long it would take for her to get to the front. So after just shouting “I know!” Because again I’m wearing a face mask and I already mumble, I turn around and finish this woman’s transaction, before moving back to my shitty register.

My lunch was supposed to be noon today, you already know I didn’t take it at noon. 1:36 actually, and my shift ended at 3.

Now, the other cashier, decent lady, used to be a bartender. Fucked up her feet, good and proper nerve damage. Today was apparently a bad pain day, something I was unaware of until I attempted to for once in this fucking job not leave 10-20 minutes after my shift was supposed to end and actually on fucking time.

Other cashier is doing something, and a customer is walking up to the register, I’ve got my shit and I am ready to go!

“Could you get this customer for me please?”

I do, because of course I do.

A line forms behind this customer and I check out like three others after her.

And once that wave of people is done and she has logged out of the other register to pick up the “main register” (“my register”) she snaps at me about how I always leave it a mess and that she can’t keep cleaning up after me.

The rejection sensitive dysphoria punched me pretty hard after hearing that.

And I won’t claim to be the cleanest person, okay? I’ll admit that.

But I don’t ever really have time to clean after that first customer. There’s a hierarchy of what I should be concerned with.

Buy online, pick up in store- I have to bag and tag these items before putting them on their shelf. And now we have to update how we do this because people were getting their stuff stolen (sort of obvious that would happen) and I can’t update the pick up lists myself. Only the new scanners can do that and only the managers have the new scanners.

Tear up old frames packaging a certain way so we can use it to wrap up fragile objects

Sales fliers- these things are sent to us by corporate, I have to (on semi-regular occasion) empty out the old sleeves, and put in the new flier.

Soda/fridge/candy- you know how stores have like a fridge or two of water, soda, and sometimes energy drinks? Yeah, I gotta keep that stocked, and unfortunately the most effective way of doing it requires removing the shelves. Also the impulse candy need to be maintained.

Clearence tagging- what it says on the tin.

So for me, personally, a guy who barely picks his foot off of the ground when he walks and needs to take a few steps to actually get in the rhythm of walking. Not leaving a barely ten by three foot rectangle of space for roughly 5-6 hrs a day means I don’t really worry about what’s on the floor, I’m more likely to kick it than I am to step on it.

And again, it fades into the background.

She has been working here for about half as long as I have, and several days she had to move to the main register after me. At no point, did she bring up my station maintenance until today. I pick shit up off the floor when I leave (most of the time, I won’t say I haven’t forgotten because it’s possible I have.)

And there’s always a bunch of shit behind me, stacked or in baskets, because I can’t go put returns back on the shelves myself (even though I’d love that to be my job) because usually until 11 I can’t leave the registers alone, and then there’s damn near always a fucking customer.

I would love to walk around with a cart a scanner and maybe the clearance gun all day, picking shit up and putting it back while also occasionally helping customers sounds actually pretty decent.

Anyway my shift is finally over, I can go home and I do and when I see there’s an alert from my banking app I pop it open to find…

My order for @krissology ‘s Forget me Not and @brandyllyn ‘s Love Nor Money did not go through because of overdraft.

I feel most comfortable wearing Ren fair garb, and that shit is expensive.

I fixed the issue, but that changed the arrival date to a day I would be working and I do not like the idea, of two books I desperately want to read, being left out on my stoop to be stolen or rained upon.

So I had to cancel the order for now.

And that’s been my week so far folks!

[talesofruneterra]

Champion Suggestion: Qiyana

Level 1

Mana Cost: 4 Attack: 4 HP: 5 Keywords: (Changeable) Archetype: Elementalist Origin: Empress of the Elements

*Empress of the Elements: You may add any Elementalist into your deck when deckbuilding. Once you’ve summoned three Elementalists with different Elements, draw me.

Level Up Condition: I’ve changed Elements 3 times.

“Round Start: Create a fleeting Terrashift in hand. When you change my Element, give all Elementalist allies the same Element as me this round.”

*Elements are unique Keywords that only Elementalists can cycle between. Ice: Stuns an enemy after a clash. Rock: Gives +1/0 each time a unit survives damage. Wild: Make a unit untargetable by spells during combat.

*Elementalists can acquire any one of these keywords when they’re summoned, but can only change vie card effects.

Level 2

Mana Cost: 4 Attack: 4 HP: 5 Keywords: (Changeable) Archetype: Elementalist Origin: Empress of the Elements

“Round Start: Create a fleeting 0 cost Terrashift in hand. When you change my Element, give all Elementalist allies the same Element as me this round.”

Supporting Cards

Terrashape

Mana cost: 1 Spell type: Focus

“Change a unit’s Element.”

Call of Ixtal

Mana cost: 4 Spell type: Burst “Draw an Elementalist.”

Nature’s Gift

Mana Cost: 5 Spell Type: Quick “Change a battling units Element.”

Royal Privilege

Mana cost: 7 Spell type: Slow “If an ally’s Elemental keyword has triggered the round, Rally.”

Mun Note: Yeah this one isn’t my best work. I realize that it’s not particularly well-put-together in the balance department; this sort of just became an attempt at figuring out how Qiyana’s elemental gimmick could work in LoR, rather than an honest attempt at designing a feasible Champion.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting The Adventure: Hitting a Wall

I know the signs before I really start to feel them, I start trawling through my notes looking for validation, I find it hard to concentrate on anything even if it’s pure entertainment, my thoughts become slippery and recursive as I think through the same few phrases or sensations on loop.

By the time I realize that I’ve hit a creative block I’ve usually been spinning my wheels for two or three days, letting everything else in life distract me from the fact that I haven’t put words on the page or made progress on one of my current projects. Then I feel guilty for not being productive and angrily stare at a blank page for the remainder of my freetime slowly making myself worse, and still getting nothing done.

It’s a cycle that I’ve been fighting for years, and one of the predominant sources of despair in my early life once my brain had associated creative accomplishment with self worth. I now know mostly that I’m not any better or worse a person because of my rate of output, but that doesn’t change the fact that I really LIKE the feeling of being creative and clever and creative blocks stand in the way of that feeling.

Lets use my most recent block as an example: I wanted to write a player home type adventure prompt where after doing a solid for the local nobility the heroes are suddenly bestowed with a knighthood and a keep overlooking the town they’d been adventuring out of. I found a really solid piece of art that captured the mood I wanted for the prompt ( sometimes the hardest part of running this blog) but when it came to actually detailing ideas for what the castle was like my brain just sort of... stopped. Sure I had a couple of ideas but they didn’t really form into anything actionable, and those concepts that managed to make it into the page were long, rambling, and frankly uninteresting.

I’d hit a wall, and it wasn’t until I was honest with myself that I had an actual problem that I could start doing something about it. Lets look at some of my solutions:

Back to the Drawing Board: While I’ve now spent several years attempting to surmount my creative blocks, it’s only recently that I’ve come to realize that blocks occur not because I’ve just run out of creative juice/have gotten stupider/angered my muse, but because I’ve committed to a flawed idea and I need to back up and plot a new way to act on my inspiration.  if I’m having problems finishing a sentence, I go back to the start of the paragraph, if I’m having trouble with a paragraph I go back to the start of the whole document, If I’m having trouble with the idea, I go back to what made me think that Idea was going to be fun in the first place.

Recognize the learning opportunity when it hits you in the face: No one is born inherently creative, it’s a process of refining your skills over time so when you encounter challenges in the future, you’ve already developed the tools needed to overcome them. Each problem then becomes an opportunity to improve, until you can gladly flaunt the things that would have stopped a younger version of yourself dead in their tracks. In this instance, figuring out how my creative blocks affect my brain will not only let me avoid them in the future, but get past them when I inevitably make a misstep.

Give your brain something else to chew on: I was already half way through thinking “maybe I should analyze why I run into walls and how I get out of them so I can implement that strategy on a wider scale” when I realized I was drafting this post in my head. Making it has not only helped me formalize a few strategies I’m going to use going further, but given me enough distance from the project that was stonewalling me that I can begin to rethink it, rather than try to “solve” what I’d already put down.

Why isn’t this working?: I’ve asked myself this question many times when I feel like I’ve run into a creative dead end, but it wasn’t until this most recent hurdle that I realized I’d never defined what “working” meant. comparing this prompt against several others that HAD worked made me realize that when I’d given the party a place to stay, I’d always paired that with a significant quest that came before/after, which I neglected to do for this particular prompt because it was already intended as a followup.  Using the fort as a launching point for a new story is going to give me all the inspiration I need.