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#i'm only ever consistent in inconsistency
darkkitty1208 · 11 months
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Words are the closest thing to a way I can make sense of my somewhat-of-a-self-identity-crisis-but-in-writing thing, and even then it can only express a mere fraction of whatever it is that I'm feeling. So bear with me as I try to verbalise this in an at least semi-coherent way.
I've been trying out a variety of writing styles and techniques lately. I've been discovering ways to do more of 'showing' and less of 'telling'.
I like the indirectness of it.
Actually, no -- that's not quite it. That's not it at all.
I think I like telling stories obliquely and only providing vague details not only because I'm a lazy arse who has no idea how to describe things in a direct and clear way but also because-- actually, I have no idea how to explain this in a way that isn't incomprehensible.
I can't quite explain it, but I think I like stories that can only be told in a vague way, like providing the puzzle pieces so that you get to piece things together the way you want it. The resulting picture would just be your own interpretation. I just like being subtle and merely imply the meaning of some things so anyone can interpret my stories their own way.
No, no. That doesn't make any sense either, does it?
And that's only one of the many things I'm still trying out and working on!
It's just. There's so much to try! I don't even know what I want. I've said this in my recent fic's A/N and I'll just say it again here: I'm experimenting with different things in writing the way a child would mix soap and shampoo in a bath. Which is a waste of time (and of shampoo and soap, which clearly does not apply in this scenario, but again, really cba to think of a better analogy here) but I can't help it because it's so fun.
Sometimes I think I don't even *have* a style. Sometimes I think I'll never have one. But I dunno.
Just ignore me as I try to mull this over. I'm just 'in my feels' and screaming this out into the abyss that's in the form of my silly little blog. Thank you for indulging me.
#ramblings#writing#tw long tags#tw excessive use of tags to avoid adding things to the body of my post 😛#my writing style is inconsistent at best#i'm only ever consistent in inconsistency#one second i'm a shakespeare wannabe and the next#i'm if douglas addams and terry pratchett had a lovechild#except it's less flattering than you think#three entirely different authors with three entirely different styles that i'm only a poor imitation of as an amateur author#yes i do know that#and the next moment i'm just a whole different person entirely#and i switch to whatever else my style is#but i *am* having fun discovering it all#there's just so much to try and i'm a little overwhelmed with it all you know?#i may speak as if i loathe having an ever-changing writing style#but in truth?#it feels very. freeing? i think#like i feel as if my writing isn't set to stone and i get to express things differently#depending on what i'm feeling at that moment#it's the freedom of self-expression except i'm not really sure who i am and what i want#and i honestly like just staying in this confusing grey area of 'what am i doing?' and 'what do i like?'#but simultaneously i *do* want to find out what style fits me best#i try not to think about it too much though#and just be a carefree little thing and have fun as i play around with words#i just wish i tried my hand in creative writing in a younger age#so i dont feel like a naive little young girl who doesn't really know what she's doing#shout out to my og followers for witnessing my growth from the very beginning of my writing journey#(admittedly i'm a little ashamed of that fact and how different i am from my early writing days now but i try not to hate myself for it)
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torchickentacos · 2 years
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Happy Valentine's Day!
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My very next post shows the process of how I made this. Timeskip because ONE I don't particularly care to draw canon ten year olds kissing, icks me out, and TWO that way I have an excuse to grow May's hair out and not draw bangs in profile view. SPECIAL THANK YOU TO @metzintli for encouraging me SO MUCH with this, it means the world!
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scarapanna · 9 months
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Man, developing an AU is such a fun but wild experience, could sum it up like this
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Still planning out what story arc to start with for the storybook au blog but it shouldn't take too long on my own terms as I'm usually pretty slow when it comes to sorting things out, apologies
[more text regarding storytelling and the hk blog in tags]
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defiant-firefly · 1 year
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Hey I've just remembered that consistency is something that doesn't work for me and trying to retain a semblance of consistency chasing that ideal of a so called 'good' and 'better' way to live is actively causing me harm and literally is not worth it. The most consistent time in my life was the best because I let myself be inconsistent on every single thing and didn't keep fighting a sleep pattern that I know I can't beat backwards, and let move on its own. I passed my first year of uni like that. Tumbled out of uni on the second because I kept. Fucking. Fighting. This endless. Losing. Battle.
This is just me complaining about how I have to keep learning to live my life in a way that works for me. But I suppose this is a reminder to you guys that aiming for a better way of life is best done one your own terms and working with yourself, not against yourself.
Great life advice? Maybe! Not lived long enough to know lmao but I know forcing myself to be a specific way despite knowing what I know about the struggles those cause isn't fucking worth it if it hurts me more than when I didn't.
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mickyschumacher · 2 months
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Im not sure if your request are open but if they are- a fic with Lando based off the song lose control by Teddy swims. Angst and smut, the whole works😩
But if your request are not open and you see this I hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶
(also I absolutely love your writing. Binge read majority of them the first day I got tumblr and I’m obsessed)
𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋  .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando had ended things on a good note... or so you thought. you didn't expect to find him at your front door begging for a second chance. or in which lando doesn't know when to give up.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), mentions of magui (not a fan of what she's done but this is fiction), angst, jealousy, cheesy confessions, unprotected sex (pretty please use protection), teasing, slight-public roleplay? breast play, eating out, fingering, oral sex, p in v, cumming inside, mentions of crashing, technically infidelity on lando's part, poor humour, fluff, and poor proofreading.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ex-fwb!lando norris x fem!reader, special appearances: magui corceiro and joão felix.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 9k+
𝐀/𝐍: first of all so sorry for taking this up so late! my bad... but it's done! in time for my 2k special! yes that's right, there are two thousands of you little buggers reading my work! i'm ever so grateful, especially because i'm the most inconsistent person i know! thank you for putting up with me, for reading my work, and for your cute little comments. they all make me very happy in such a tough time i've been going through. sending you my ever grateful love from the bottom of my heart ♡︎ p.s it's my 100th post shocker!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
"I miss you."
Lando's voice was always like this. Slightly croaky and brittle yet warm and full of need. For you it was a sort of drug. It always pulled you in, it blurred the line between wrong and right, and you always came back for more. And when it was paired with those brown tinged blue eyes of his and all the freckles on his face, you were a goner.
"Lando," you sighed, leaning on your door frame. It was one in the morning. You were asleep but ever so gracefully woken up to the consistent ring of your doorbell. You rubbed your face with an exhaustion not familiar to your slumber but familiar to the antics of Lando himself. The words fell from your lips in an eased flow. "You can't be here. You don't miss me. You need to leave."
You tried to avoid his pained eyes but everywhere you looked, you met them in some shape or form.
"But I do miss you. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your lips, your body, your laugh, fuck, everything."
You blinked slowly, wondering how you had got here. How is it that the decisions and choice you made in life lead to Lando Norris pleading at your front door at one in the morning?
Ah...
There was an answer to that.
As the story goes, around a year ago, you were with Lando. 'With' was a loose term. It was supposed to be friends with benefits. You had been for almost a year by that point. Naturally, the only rule to being friends with benefits was to not fall in love with each other. And as natural as that rule was, there was a common saying: 'Rules are meant to be broken.'
You and Lando both realised it. But it terrified you the most. You weren't cut out for this. Things were already hard enough as it was sneaking around.
Travelling on the private jets, facing the media and the public, having to watch Lando race every weekend and pray for him wellbeing... it wasn't exactly your cup of tea. It was exactly why you were friends with benefits in the first place.
So you ended it. Lando wasn't happy about it but he respected it.
That was the end of your story.
Or so you thought.
"Lan, you're in a relationship. For fuck's sake, please can you consider her at least?"
Lando ran a hand through his dark mop of curls, sighing while holding back the eye roll at the mention of his intricately created PR relationship. He knew you were right. You often were. But you weren't understanding him. He didn't think you ever could, no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.
You and him... you were made for each other. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. You were perfect. Together, you were perfect. There was no one like you. And for him, there was no one else. Not ever. No matter who he dated or who he was with, he'd be damned if there was someone else other than you.
Lando's tongue poked his cheek, eyes firmly on you. "Are you coming this Sunday? In the evening?"
This race weekend was the Silverstone circuit and in the same day, afterwards, was a dinner party with the drivers, families, and friends. In other words, it was a recipe for disaster.
"I don't think I should..." you trailed off, internally wincing when you knew deep down you should've just said you weren't coming rather than being open to it. When it came to the blue-eyed boy in front of you, any assertiveness you ever had was thrown out the window.
Lando reached to grab your hands, fingers automatically rubbing smooth circles into your skin. "Please come," he pleaded, "if not for me, come for mum and dad, hmm? They miss having you around."
You pressed your lips together, eyes falling onto the floor as you began to chew your lip. "Lando, I can't come. It doesn't look good... for the both of–"
"She won't be there."
Your eyes flickered up to Lando, widening slightly at his words.
With an eager sharpe intake of air, he doubled down on his response. "If that's why you're saying no, she won't be there."
You tilted your head, giving him an almost dry look. "You know that's not even half of the reason." A sigh fell from your lips. "Go home, Lando. You've got practice tomorrow. You need sleep."
Lando's eyes softened. You always kept track of those small things for him, scolding him for not going to sleep early or not taking care of himself. It was like old times all over again. His grip around your hands tightened. "I will," He promised, "but tell me you're coming on Sunday. Please."
You cursed at yourself. It was that same voice. That one with so much need and desperation. It was as if a voice gained the ability to have puppy eyes.
Reluctantly, you nodded slowly. "Fine... I'll come," you relented.
A smile finally sprawled across Lando's face, hands moving to quickly bring you into a hug. His arms felt comfortable, bringing an ease you hadn't felt in over a year. "Thank you."
Your eyes widened when you felt a quick kiss on your cheek, still lingering after Lando parted. He grinned, taking a few steps back from you. "I'll see you Sunday. "
━━━━━━━━━━━
The Sunday jitters were real. You couldn't ever truly imagine how anyone of the drivers felt on race day but you imagined it to be something like this.
The way your heart was thumping, one would think you have an odd case of arrhythmia. You were working up a sweat masked by the anxious sprays of perfume you had lathered on and all you were doing was standing.
You hadn't watched the race in person because that was equally as idiotic as going to a brunch where the person you love and his family was despite him having a girlfriend. And you didn't want to be twice as idiotic. In the end, Lando had gotten a well-earned P3 at his home race, despite the mistakes of his team.
You were happy for him. But it didn't rule out the fact you were in a serious dilemma of awkwardness as you dawdled outside of the venue. Your fingers twirled around the fabric of your dress.
You shouldn't of worn it. It was Lando's favourite. You knew that.
Hell, you shouldn't be here.
You should go home.
It wasn't too late.
Your name abruptly sprung into the air. "Is that you?"
Well shit.
You took a slow turn on your feet, a sheepish smile automatically working its way onto your face. "Mr and Mrs Norris!" you greeted.
An amused huff fell from Lando's mother's mouth. "Please! You know you can call by our names!"
Somewhere in the back of your head, you could feel your mother's voice nagging you at the very thought of calling them by their names.
Cisca smiled, bringing you into a warm hug. "God, we've miss you!" Pulling away after a few seconds, she took another few to observe you. "You've become more beautiful since we last saw you, isn't that right, Adam?"
Lando's father chuckled. "Not more than you though," he teased only to get a playful elbow from his wife. He turned to you and grinned, reminding you exactly where Lando's came from. "The girls will be so happy to see you, sweetie. Oliver too."
You laughed gently, thanking them. Your mouth felt dry. Usually you knew what to say to them. But it had been so long, you weren't sure what to say. Whether it was right or wrong. How much Lando had even said...
"Lando was telling us how you've been busy studying, is that right? You've been doing your master's?" His father queried.
Speak of the devil...
You nodded slowly. "Yes. It's research based so it's quite, uh, time consuming. So I just wanted to put a year dedicated to it. That's why I haven't been around as much."
Both of his parents nodded in understanding. His mother pouted, "While it's been sad without you, I'm very proud of you. A bachelors is no easy feat let alone a master's!"
Your heart constricted while her soft eyes met yours. His mother was always like this. Talking you... treating you as if you were her daughter. You never understood it. You'd only known each other for a couple of years including the period were you and Lando were with each other.
You asked her a month before you had ended it with Lando how she knew you so well. Her response... you could've never forgotten it even if you willed it. '"A mother knows everything. What's good and bad for their children. You know it as mother's intuition. When I look at you, I just know."'
"'Know what?'" You remembered asking.
"How important you are to Lando."
And that was when you realised you were completely and utterly in love with him.
"If you two are done talking, we should finally go inside," Lando's father continued to tease.
You sucked in a sharp breath as you walked with his parents inside the venue.
It was definitely too late.
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To be honest, Lando had seen many beautiful things in life. Life, if you looked at it carefully, perhaps on a slight angle, was beautiful. And besides, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
But the sight of you walking into the venue, arm linked with his own mother and you chatting with his father was forever etched into his brain.
He could've sworn his heart was leaping out of his chest. Everything about what he was seeing was perfect. Your smile, the atmosphere, the sun shining down on you, the sound of your laugh, your hair, the wind, the dress... God, he could go on and on.
"Lando! Look who we met outside!" His mother cheered making him grin.
"Well, well, well," Lando smiled, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek before hugging his father. He stepped back, blue eyes fixated on you. He stretched out his arms, waiting for a hug making you sigh and his parents laugh softly.
You took a step forward, reaching your hands to wrap around his back while Lando's own hands fell to your waist and brought you close. His classic Tom Ford perfume lingered around you as he whispered in your ear. "You came."
"I promised," you responded softly, pulling back only for him to tighten his grip on you. You suppressed an eye roll. "Congrats on P3. You did well."
Lando perked up at the mention of his race and finally pulled back. "You watched?"
"I–" Your voice was interrupted by another familiar Brit.
"Is that who I think it is?" Alex queried with his usual wide grin.
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "Depends... is it the most prettiest girl? After Lily, of course."
Alex chuckled. "Is there any other answer?"
You pretended to ponder. "Nope! That's the one." You both laughed as you gave each other a hug.
"Where have you been? I needed someone to give me company on the tracks. It's been so lonely," He complained dramatically.
And without realising it, you were back to meeting everyone you hadn't seen in a long time. Weirdly enough, you missed this. Talking to everyone, joking around, just spending time with them... it gave you some sort of peace.
"Okay! Oscar, you're time's up," Lando announced, standing at the table you, Oscar and his girlfriend, Lily, were seated at.
Oscar gaped at his teammate. "But we only just met her!"
Lando gave a sickly sweet smile. "Aw... tough. Now scram!"
You shook your head as you watched the couple leave the table. "You are the worst," you said, leaning on your arm while Lando took a seat next to you.
"I haven't seen you in so long! Sue me for wanting to spend time with you," Lando shrugged in his defence, blue eyes trained on you.
You blinked, averting your eyes to the rest of the party. "I going to get some champagne," you murmured, standing up to go the table full of various spirits and juices.
You cursed silently as you caught Lando following after you from your peripheral. Arriving to the table, your fingers danced around, looking for the right glass of bubbles.
"You're ignoring me," Lando stated, hot breath skimming past your ear as he stood inches away from you.
You kept your eyes on the alcohol, letting a small laugh fall from your lips. "Gee, has anyone ever told you that you're a smart cookie, Lando"?
Lando pursed his lips. "I miss you."
You sighed at the familiar words, fingers wrapping around a glass of what you were pretty sure was Dom Perignon leisurely being given. "Lando... stop it. I came here because you wanted me to, okay? Just forget about whatever it is you're thinking about."
You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt Lando's hand travel to yours, fingers just hanging on to each other. You hated how his touch made you feel so... so tingly. As if you were having your first crush.
"So that's why you wore this dress? To tell me to stop? Because I wanted you here?" He laughed softly, playing with your fingers. He shook his head. "I can't even imagine what you'd do if I told you every single thought running through my head right now."
Your eyes widened. You shakily put back the glass of champagne.
"Lan–" Your voice cut off upon the feeling of his fingers trailing at the back of your neck. You gulped while Lando's voice continued to linger.
"How much of a mistake do you think this really is? Wearing my favourite dress? Don't think I haven't seen that necklace on you. Let's turn that pendant around and show everyone who's name is on it, hmm?"
Your eyes widened. Shit. You had completely forgotten about the necklace. You had spent all your time using it on the front side that you had forgotten about his initial's engraved on the back.
Lando's tongue trailed over his bottom lip, head tilting to the side. "Sweetheart, I'm torn. You have no idea how gorgeous you look. But you have no idea how much I would give... what I would do to take you home right now. That dress would be off and my fingers would be on you. Fuck, just imagining it, I–"
"Lando!"
You and Lando both furrowed your brows, chests heaving breathlessly. You definitely didn't say his name nor did you sound like that. Turning your head slightly, the view made you take wide steps back from Lando.
Lando mended his brows even more, only smoothing them when he saw what you had seen. "B-Baby!" The endearment failed to come out of his mouth smoothly, making you wince.
You watched Lando hug the blonde girl in front of you. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil?" He asked, only just covering up his sheer curiosity.
"I was but I wanted to surprise you... so surprise!"
A surprise... yes it was.
You blinked as the blonde turned to you, extended her hand, and introduced herself. Awkwardly, you returned the kind gesture because ultimately she had done nothing wrong to you.
You introduced yourself as Lando's old friend because it was the safest bet. And it was the truth... to some degree.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Lando asked his girlfriend as a queasy feeling began to form in your stomach. You think you can hear her respond, settling for a glass. You weren't sure. Your ears were tuning in and out of this noise. Out of your peripheral you see the driver turn to you. "Did you still want your champagne?"
You let out a low exhale and gave the both of them a tight smile. "It's okay. I was just leaving."
The smile on Lando's face dropped. "W-What? Already?"
You nodded curtly. "Lots of things to do."
Lando narrowed his eyes. "Like what? It's barely seven... the day's almost over..."
Your eyes widened, feeling startled as an awkward laugh fell from his girlfriend's lips. "Lan, the girl said she has things to do. Stop grilling her. Sorry... must be the post-race adrenaline or something. It's a shame you can't stick around though. See you around?"
You gave a small smile, slightly irritated at how genuine and sweet she was. You actually wished there was something about her to hate. "Yeah," You agreed softly, "See you around."
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About thirty minutes had passed since you left the dinner party, much to everyone's dismay.
You were exhausted.
You only just had the energy to take off your heels and put aside your purse before you fell onto your bed. Sighing, you stared at the ceiling. What even was life anymore?
You couldn't believe yourself. You were so angry and pissed off at Lando and you were jealous of his girlfriend.
There wasn't any rocket science to it. You were still very much in love with Lando. You shouldn't be but you were.
Your mother once told you that love wasn't black and white. It was the blurred line between: it was grey. It was never as simple as being in love or not. You fall in love and fall out of it and just as you did, you would fall once again but with someone else entirely. And sometimes it compelled idiotic things like infidelity or rebounds.
Love was also seasonal. It changed all the time and sometimes you enjoyed it and sometimes it made you suffer. It was entirely demanding. It drove people crazy. It was overwhelming and yet so lonely.
Point in case: love sucked.
And you and Lando had not escaped from it.
You weren't sure if you ever could.
But you had to. It was the right thing to do. Maintaining boundaries was the right way to go.
You blew some air up to your face, pushing the hair out of your face. Nodding to yourself, you told yourself you were getting over Lando.
You sat straight at the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house. Begrudgingly you walked towards the door, a hundred percent sure it was your neighbour a floor down. She was a sweet, quiet old lady who fit the 'crazy cat lady' persona a bit too well. Often, she came to you asking if you had seen a cat of hers but the worst part was that all of her cats were the tabby orange type. How she could tell the difference was beyond you, no more than how exactly the cats were using elevators and opening fire exits to get to your floor.
Without thinking too much, you opened the door to greet the lady but all the words you had ever known fell to the air upon seeing Lando.
"Lando," you took a calm deep breath, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating or that you're not actually in front of my door right now."
"I can't do that," Lando said, eyes burning with something a bit too familiar.
Wordlessly, you begun closing the door. But the jutted foot of Lando's quickly intercepted the act. "Please," Lando pleaded, coming into your apartment.
You let out a distressed sigh as you hear the door close. "Lando, you can't be here. You're supposed to be at a dinner party. With your friends... family, with your girlfriend, oh my God, with your freaking girlfriend, Lando."
"But you're the only one on my mind," Lando breathed, watching you walk around your house. His arm reached out to your waist, stopping your endless rounds of circles. He could feel you take a sharp intake of air, standing still at his touch. Holding you close, his lips lingered near your ear while his warmth enveloped you.
"I think I'm going crazy," he murmured. "You're in my dreams. Even when I look at her, I see your face. You're fucking everywhere, sweetheart."
You pursued your lips together. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?" you asked quietly, not to Lando in particular but to the silence of your house.
"Then tell me... that you don't want me here. That you don't feel the same way. Tell me... tell me you don't love me. Then I'll leave. I promise."
"I–" you paused, turning your body to him. You could feel his eyes searching your face but you couldn't even lift your head up. "I don't love you."
A lengthy silence ensued and it spoke volumes.
Finally, a soft chuckle from Lando's lips broke the silence. "You can't even look me in the eye and tell me that."
You threw your head back with an exhausted sigh, giving up. Your hands began to flail about. "What more do you want from me, Lando? Why can't you just leave me, us, alone?"
Lando's hand travelled to your jaw, pulling you in a mere inch away from his face. His grip was soft and warm, lulling you. "I can't leave you alone... I can't ever leave you alone. You don't get it," a cry of frustration fell from his lips while his eyes watered, "You were made for me and I was made for you. You... you are all I ever think about. I can't breathe without you. I exist for you. I am so fucking in love with you, it scares me. And i-if you tell me you love me, I'll break up with her right now."
Your eyes burned with an all but familiar salty liquid. "Lando... I can't."
Lando clenched his jaw. His voice was so quiet, a crack away from breaking entirely. "Why? Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?"
"Because I'm terrified!"
You feel Lando's hand fall from your jaw while his brows furrowed, asking you what you were talking about. Your cheeks were flushed with heat while your fingers dug rested on your hips, digging into your flesh. You took in a shaky breath.
"I can't do this life, Lan. I can't be away from you all the time and travel with you all the time. I'm not another girl on your arm for the media. And I really can't watch you race. Every time I watch you race... I, " you blew air into your cheeks, "I watch with a sick stomach. Every spin, every crash... I always just think.. God, if something happened to you. If I love you..."
Lando fell silent. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to say to you. All he had were the fresh tears quietly leaking out of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, using his arm to wipe off the rest of his silent sobbing. Stepping forward, with the soft pad of his thumb, he collected the tears you hadn't realised were falling.
Lando cleared his throat, breathing in while he rested his hand on your cheek, rubbing soft circles into your skin. "Ever since I met you, before I even realised I was in love with you, I've spent every race thinking about you. You're my first thought when those lights go off and the last when that flag waves. You don't know it but you are the only thing that makes me feel truly safe. And I would fight the world if it meant that you could openly love me back."
A singular tear made it's way down your face, seeping into the pores of your skin as Lando pressed a long kiss on your cheek before quietly leaving towards the door. Before entirely leaving, he stopped in his tracks. "I'm not giving up on us. I told you before. I could never leave you."
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It had been a month since you and Lando had talked... whatever that was out.
The promise he had made before leaving your house that day was one he was persistent in pursuing. You knew Lando. He was stubborn. Often, what he wanted, he got.
You tried to avoid him. But the good morning and good night messages you received every day despite his ever-changing time zones still reached you. You spent the first three days ignoring them but the guilt with each passing day got heavier.
In a way, it felt like you were restarting your friendship. Taking things slow. Except the odd times that reminded you it was anything but. In particular Lando's 'drunk on horniness' messages or the sudden love confessions that popped out of thin air.
Things were... steadyish.
It was the only reason you had accepted Carlos' extended invitation to join him and the other's at a nightclub. You couldn't lie. Of course, Lando was at the forefront of your brain when you accepted. A part of you was curious.
How was he holding up?
Whether he was still with his girlfriend...
Were his plans on not giving up on you limited to his consistent texts?
But alas, as life usually worked, things did not go the way you planned.
While most of the drivers steered clear of the alcohol aside from their podiums, a practice Lando often took somewhat seriously, he was seriously considering breaking at the sight of you. More specifically, the sight of you and João Felix, the famed five-star FIFA player, mingling.
Lando who wasn't starving for any spirits was ready to down a few shots. But instead, he was completely sober, not a lick of alcohol in him, watching João, the ex-boyfriend of his own girlfriend chat you up.
Lando couldn't exactly blame the athlete. He would've done the same thing: the fixated eyes as you talked, the ear-to-ear smile when you laughed, the seamless checking out when you turned to take a sip of your drink or talk to someone nearby because Lando was a hundred percent sure you were the most gorgeous person in the room.
But he could blame João's pettiness. Lando had his ex and now he was going after you. In way, he rated it. But Lando knew you too well.
You were not interested in the player at all. The tight smiles, the absentminded nods, the readiness to jump into a conversation with literally anyone else... you were practically inviting Lando for a talk.
You could feel yourself freeze at the sight of Lando and his girlfriend walk over to the both of you. The air, all of a sudden, felt thick, fogging up your brain. You weren't quite sure what to say. This odd intertwining history between the four of you was nauseating.
"João," Lando greeted with a fake cheer. Magui, his girlfriend, gave a tight smile that bordered on pissed off – you knew the look all too well.
The football player gave a loose grin, shaking Lando's hand. "Lando... Magui," he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh! Have you guys met yet?" He asked, brown eyes moving to you as he introduced you to the couple.
The three of you blinked at the dry sarcasm underpinning João's voice. You let a small laugh fall past your lips. "We have, actually. I'm Lando's old friend and Magui and I met not so long ago."
Lando gave you a pointed look. "You are way too down to earth. She's a special old friend," he corrected, grinning at João.
You pursed your lips awkwardly as the two Portugueses raised their eyes brows. You raised your hand to rub the nape of your neck nervously. "Uh, well, no... just old friend will do. Always the funny one, huh, Lando?" You murmured with a forced laugh.
To be honest, as the silence began to build, you were surprised to even hear Magui's voice. "I'm sorry..." she started, arm darting out to grab João's hand, making you widen your eyes, "João, we need to talk."
You incredulously watched Magui drag away the Portuguese before turning to Lando. You pondered over her words. "She still–"
"Likes him? Yup!" Lando said, popping the 'p' as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"It's weird how similar she and I are. Lonely... and both head over heels for our exes." Lando tilted his head, eyes examining you carefully while you took a deep breath. "Can't say the same for João though," he clicked his tongue.
The comment made you raise a brow. Lando softly laughed at your confused expression. "Sweetheart... it is my worst luck that you are the most gorgeous woman to exist. João had eyes for you. From the moment you were talking till the moment we stepped in."
You folded your arms, a small grin teetering on your face at the irritated expression on his face. "So you were watching me... obsessed much?" You humoured out of pure amusement.
Lando poked his cheek with his tongue, taking a step towards you, hands still shoved into this pockets of his pants. "Oh you have no idea."
You pressed your lips together.
There were an infinite amount of things that were unhealthy. Rewatching your comfort shows five times too many, the double digits on your screen-time, a high sugar intake (although your tastebuds said otherwise)...
But for you, it usually ended up being Lando. The various facets of Lando often left you undone. And a clean-shaven Lando, stalking towards you in the loosest long sleeve polo shirt, folded at the arms and half unbuttoned so the necklace you brought him and bracelets he wore glittered under the club lights was just another one of many undoings.
"Lando..." you murmured, taking a step back, eyes darting to your surroundings. "What are you doing?"
"I haven't told you how good you look today, have I? Because you have no idea how fucking hot you look," Lando responded, ignoring your question as he took another step forward.
You swallowed your saliva at the recognisable look swirling in those blue orbs of his. Like he was going to ravage you.
"Lando," you hissed, putting a hand to his chest to maintain some distance. You breathed shakily, trying to think straight. "Have some self-control!"
"Oh sweetheart, you know as much as I do." You widened your eyes as Lando used your hand to pull you closer, merely inches away from his face. His voice, despite it's softness, is drowned in a husk that runs down your spine. His warm breath pricked the surface your skin. "When it comes to you, I have no control."
Never in your life had your throat felt so dry. You burned at his words and his touch made your stomach churn. "But..." you furrowed your brows, trying to remember what you wanted to say. "But Magui? João?" You managed to get out.
As the strobes of light glimmered across Lando, you managed to capture him closing his eyes after being trained on your lips for so long, as though he was trying to hold himself back, swimming up to the surface for some sort of consciousness.
His forehead fell to yours as he pondered those three words. "I told you..." Lando said, hands travelling up your neck to hold your face, relishing the heat your flushed state brought. "I exist for you."
In essence: fuck Magui and fuck João.
━━━━━━━━━━━
"You're kidding me," Lando flatly said, evilly eyeing the 'Out of Order' sign on your elevator.
"I'm also totally kidding that my room's on the fifth floor," You laughed softly, sarcasm underlying your voice.
Lando turned to you with a blank stare. You two had both managed to get out of the nightclub as discreetly as you could (which included the most obvious winks from Carlos and Fewtrell). While both of your patience was wearing thin, in the nature of an F1 driver, Lando was losing it ten times faster.
Lando had been waiting what felt like forever to be with you, for you to green-light him. That time he spent without you felt torturous as though he was being punished for being in love. And now that he had you, he was going to make up for lost time.
The only hitch in his plan was an elevator under maintenance and five flights of stairs.
Lando raised a brow at the anything but innocent smile tugging on your lips. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I do not like that look on your face."
You suppressed an eye roll, knowing damn well those twinkling eyes were saying something else. Slowly, you walked towards the fire exit with Lando following after you cautiously. Popping your head into the room, you looked up and the numerous staircases trailing up the building.
A quiet laugh slipped past Lando's mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked as you took your heels off and placed them on the floor.
You turned to him, resting your hand the railing of the staircase while the other found your hip. "My dear Lando," you tsked, "you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?"
You smiled at the furrowed brows he sported. "They say you should work hard to get what you want. Who knows..." you shrugged, "Maybe you'll find my panties on the third floor."
As the cogs finally clicked in place, Lando sunk his teeth into his lips. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, raking his eyes over you. "And if someone catches us?"
You jutted your bottom lip, pretending to ponder his question. "Guess you'll have to be fast then. Aren't you an athlete or something?" You teased, grinning ear-to-ear now.
"You are going to be the death of me." Lando gave you a pointed look, throwing his heading back soon after receiving a cheeky wink from your side.
The British driver watched carefully as you started to make your way up the flight of stairs. Smiling to himself while shaking his head, he grabbed your heels with his two fingers and climbed up after you.
Lando was amused and excited at the same time, seeing you occasionally turn to him with a knowing glint in your eyes. He knew himself that things were currently tame: finding your heels, purse, and jacket in his hands.
He felt dazed upon catching a glimpse of the lace underneath your dress, tight around your ample flesh, his own pants beginning to constrict.
"Not just yet, Lan." Your voice piped up in the silence. Lando fluttered his eyes open, seeing you turn back to him again. He questionably hummed in response, gathering himself once again.
"What are you going to do now?" You queried with feigned innocence, eyes flickering to your bra dangling in your hand. "Whoops!"
Lando sucked in a sharp breath, watching your bra fall to the floor before shamelessly moving his eyes to your chest, eyes bulging at the now uncontrolled cleavage spilling from your dress. His fingers clenched around all of your items while he swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth.
The sudden urge to increase his pace up the stairs made you widen your eyes with a fire-like anticipation, matching his action. As Lando grabbed your bra from the floor, he could only imagine what was coming as you arrived to the third floor.
But surprisingly enough, Lando had caught up to you, intentional on your part he was sure. He eyed your body as you sat on a stair, leg crossed over another, letting your dress ride up your thighs.
"Looking for something?" You queried, catching his attention.
"Nothing." Lando winced at the poor and croaky lie escaping his lips.
You grinned, gliding your tongue over your lip. You stood up, hand clenching around the soft and wet fabric in your hands. You could hear Lando's breath hitch as you used your free hand to trail up his leg, only millimetres away from the bulge in his pants.
Lando's eyes focused on you as you met his gaze. He felt your lips graze his own, naturally making him lean in for more but your finger pressing down stopped him, instead pulling his free hand open.
Lando closed his eyes upon the feel of the soft textured fabric in his rough palm. "Please tell me that's what I think it is."
He knew what it was. But he wanted to hear it from your lips.
You moved your lips to his ear. "What do you want to hear? That your holding my panties? Or that they're soaked?"
Lando's eyes snapped open, dropping your items to his side. His hand travelled up your neck, holding your face to jerk it towards him. You could feel his hot breath swarm your vicinity. His thumb trailed over your lips, head leaning in.
You gave him a small smile, pulling away. "We still have two whole floors, Lando. Patience is a virtue."
Lando blinked blankly at the light tap of your fingers on his cheek. He watched you leave once again. Knowing that you had no underwear unknowingly awoke something deeply sinister within him.
You were a siren. Luring him in by doing so little and yet, the most. He was sure of it.
Lando took in a deep breath, closing his eyes once again. He was also sure that the next thing about to come off was the last thing you had on: your dress. And he wasn't confident he could handle it at all. His cock felt impossibly tight against his pants, aching in such a way that begged for release.
"You're missing the show, baby."
Lando looked at you, gathering your items and slowly walking up the stairs, watching you carefully take the straps off your shoulders, emphasising 'L' on your necklace. His tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, preventing them from tugging upwards when you realised you had to deal with the zipper of your dress.
"Need some help?" Lando asked, catching up to you once again.
You pouted at his amused expression. "Lan... I had a thing going," You whined. You had used a damn string and paperclip to pull the zip up earlier this evening. And now? Now you had a lover who drove a papaya-coloured car for a living with a shit-eating grin.
"How about," Lando started, moving your panties to his other hand to wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, "I help you get out of this dress and you stop being a little minx so I can fuck the tease out of you, hmm?"
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, feeling Lando's bulge push up against your ass. Your skin pricked with a wave of heat that you hadn't felt in a long time. You hear Lando hum in your ear, waiting for a response as he nestled his chin into your collarbone, fingers grazing up and down your body.
"Fine, fine," you relented, turning to grab Lando by the hand before you hurried up the last flight of stairs.
"I thought you said patience was a virtue!" Lando huffed, smiling at your pace.
You rolled your eyes. "You're one to speak."
Lando chuckled softly, trailing after you with the same eagerness sparking within him.
━━━━━━━━━━━
You peeked your head into your empty hallway, hand still around Lando's. There were four flats on your floor. Two of which were empty thanks to the cost of living crisis and the other, your neighbour, who was often out of town.
In other words, you were free to be as loud as you want.
With as much humbleness and reserve you could manage, you tamely walked down your hallway, hearing Lando mumble something about how your hallway belonged in a horror movie.
"Gee... that's so sexy, Lan. Keep going," you dryly encouraged, turning to grab the keys in your purse.
Lando jutted out his hand, letting your keys dangle from his fingers in front of your face. "I'm just saying," he said defensively with the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in amusement.
You shook your head, failing to suppress your grin as you shoved the key into the door, waiting to hear the obscene click. Opening the door, you smiled timidly at the state of your flat. "Well... this is my humble-ish abode... that you've seen a bit too much recently," you teased.
Lando laughed softly, following after you, hands still full. "What are you on about? I love your flat. It's so... you."
You turned to Lando with a raised brow, watching him put down all the trinkets you had left him on the shelf near the door. "Is that a diss I hear?"
The driver rolled his eyes, walking towards you with a knowing glint to his eyes. His arms stretched out, travelling to your waist before pulling you in. You could feel his breath graze past your skin as he held your gaze. Lando's voice was a mere whisper in your ears. "I mean I love you... so I love your cute little flat."
"Oh," you lamely said before blinking back to reality. "I mean not 'oh' like 'oh,' I mean like 'oh... I love you too?" You questioned, slowly dying on the inside at your stupidity.
Lando grinned at your pained expression. "Nice save," he murmured against your lips. "Now... where were we?"
"Hmm?" You idly queried, unable to take your eyes off of his lips. "Uh," you cleared your throat, "something about fucking the tease out of me?"
"Ah, yes," Lando agreed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "You have been pretty awful today. First walking in with João..." He clicked his tongue, finger trailing the underside of the strap of your dress before pulling it down your shoulder. "Then this dress, fuck."
You let out a shaky breath, feeling his fingers skim past your neck as he walked around you to meet the zip you had been battling all day. Lando's mouth met the side of your ear while he pressed the cold metal of your zip down and against your back.
"And now your little theatrics. It's not very nice of you, sweetheart. I've waited so long... you're on my mind every second of every day. I think about you so much, I don't think it's healthy. But..."
Lando stopped himself, lips brushing against your burning skin.
"But?" You repeated, turning your body to face him.
"But... I don't care," He finished with a small nonchalant shrug and a balance of softness and cockiness drowning his voice.
You didn't waste a second, moving your hands to Lando's neck, pushing yourself forward as you pressed your lips to his.
You could feel his hands immediately wrap around your waist. Your skin pricked with a familiar burn, warming at the touch of Lando's fingers skimming your bare skin.
Even though a fire was whirling within you, your body still had managed to create waves and waves of goosebumps as the hairs on your skin stood straight. You could feel Lando's tongue dart out, nudging your mouth to open a bit more to explore every crevice.
A mix of a grunt and high-pitched moan slipped past Lando's lips making your thighs clench at the tingling rippling through your core. You were positively going to combust.
Lando was equally sure he was going to lose it. He had waited so long to feel your lips and the sheer happiness he felt right now... it couldn't even compare to his imagination. To feel his teeth graze your lips while his one hand roamed your bare back, ever slowly inching towards your ass... the other tangled in your soft hair... he was almost afraid to admit he daydreamed of this.
His pants, fuck, they were tight before but this was something else entirely. He was in a some sort of twisted pain as your hands moved from his neck and crept up the hem of his shirt, brushing his taut torso, remembering exactly where all his little moles were.
"Shit..." Lando sighed out, holding you tighter against him. His lips moved along your bare shoulder, meeting the nape of your neck to attack it with purple written love letters. "Get on the bed, baby," he managed to get out, half-focusing on the honey-drenched moans falling from your lips while he waddled you towards the bed.
You sat back on the mattress breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you watched Lando eye you down with a lust-driven softness. A gentle smile sprawled across your face, making him gulp cautiously. Coyly, you stood up, barely a few centimetres away from him as you peeled off your dress as slowly as you good.
You could hear Lando's breath hitch before he sucked in a sharp intake of air, eyes fixed on your breasts. They looked lonely... as if they were waiting for his touch. His tongue rested on the side of his mouth, tilting his head while your dress skimmed past your thighs and off your legs.
Lando's head fell back. "Fuck... you are going to be death of me." He shook his head, inching back towards you.
The small laugh that had fallen from your lips made him smile. He watched as your fingers pinched the edge of his shirt, lifting it up at the same rate of his arms flying up. Removing his shirt, your hands danced towards his shorts but Lando's hand caught your wrist.
You flickered your eyes to Lando, eyebrows raised at the pained look on his face. "If I let you do it, I swear to God, I might cum right here."
Your eyes slightly widened at his words, mouth all of a sudden feeling dry. You raised your hands in defence, watching him try to take off his pants in amusement.
"Don't think I don't see that smug smile on your face, sweetheart," He murmured, blue eyes averting to you. A smug smile of his own formed on his face as his arms caged you in, your knees bucking at the feel of the mattress or Lando – you couldn't tell.
Lando's head dipped into the valley of your breasts, hot breath letting goosebumps litter your bare skin. "I missed these sweet tits of yours," he murmured, watching his own hand skim past your pebbled nipple, ears perking at the quiet gasp coming from your mouth.
You could feel the ghost of Lando's smile against your skin before his hand stretched to fondle the soft mound of tissue while his tongue wrapped around the other, circling the hard nipple with his warm saliva.
You let out a small sigh, hand immediately travelling to the mop of brown curls Lando sported as you revelled in his touch. You could tell what he was doing. Making up for lost time. Ensuring you knew how much he missed you by spending the uttermost time and care with your breasts alone.
His thumb and tongue moved in synchronised circles, paying attention to each nipple, savouring the way your body arched into his touch and the small sighs and whimpers of admission dancing into his ears.
Detaching his tongue from your nipple, Lando looked at the sight of the ample flesh of your tits filling his hands. Fuck... it drove him insane.
Your body quivered as Lando's lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, a line of purples following right after his wet kisses. "Lando," you hissed, "People are going to know."
A huff of amusement crawled from his throat. "I know."
Lando watched you roll your eyes while he came down to pussy. His hands glided across your thighs, gripping your plump skin as a wave of tingles bubbled within your core.
Planting a small kiss on the side of your thigh, he flickered his blue eyes to you. "Think I still need to get that brat out of you," he murmured before gently pulling at your labia.
He watched your folds clench around nothing as his hot breath grazed the surface of your pussy. Lando smiled knowingly. "You are simply drenched for me, sweetheart."
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his finger slide down your slick folds, going up to ever so slightly to gather your arousal and graze the sensitive bundle of nerves near the top. A gasp left your mouth, making him grin.
You feel his fingers move away from your heat, skimming your thighs while hearing the hitched breaths fall from Lando's mouth as if he was the one affected. You could see his eyes travel across your body, wondering where to start. He wanted everywhere.
His mop of curls on his head dipped down, warm lips pressed up against the valley of your breasts to your stomach. And as he reached your navel, he could hear your shallow breaths, the ghost of his smile tickling your skin.
Heat prickled every inch of your body and yet a shiver of what could only be explained as some sort of electric current ran through you. You felt a tap on your thigh, bringing you back to reality.
"Don't lose me now, baby," Lando murmured softly, hands gripping your hips to yank your body closer to him.
Before you could breathe, before you could imagine the mere consequences of the way Lando's breath felt against your core, his mouth dived down into your folds.
Your mouth fell open as your head found comfort in the mattress. His tongue grazed over your clit with a tantalisingly slow pace, letting your legs tremor in his grasp. You could feel his lips curve, smirk practically dripping off his face.
You opened your mouth, preparing a witty comeback only for a string of moans to come out as Lando traversed deeper into your burning core, taking on every crevice and fold.
A groan escaped Lando's lips, pulling away for a brief second. "I missed how good you taste, so fucking sweet," he sighed out, delirious.
Your toes curled at his words, hands reaching for his head as he returned back to your pussy, Lando's own hands moving to your inner thighs to expose you entirely to him. His tongue had found your clit once again, unleashing his torturous attack.
"Oh God," you cried out, hips bucking themselves further into his tongue as the signs of your upcoming climax approached. You didn't think you could last any longer, especially not when Lando slipped two fingers inside you, making you clench around around him.
"Fucking hell," Lando rasped against your clit, speeding up his pace. His fingers move in and out of you rapidly, tongue flat against your clit as you trembled in his hands.
The dazed look in your eyes, the sunken teeth, the clenching of your walls...
Lando eagerly pulled you closer if possible, hoisting a leg over his shoulder, sending an entirely different realm of pleasure across your body.
"Lando!" You sobbed, hands tightening their grip on his hair.
He moaned, maintaining his pace. "Come, baby. All for me, come on. Show me how good I make you feel."
You felt undone at his words, body convulsing as the big waves of your orgasm hit you hard. Your walls clenched and pulsed around his fingers.
Lando couldn't tell whether his heart was fluttering or whether his cock was throbbing, probably both, but he had once committed this ruined sight of you to his memory not too long ago, and God, he had been dying to see it again.
The strain in Lando's voice was impossible to miss. So was his aching cock standing straight against his stomach. "I need you... so bad," he murmured, pussy-drenched lips against your ear.
You couldn't help but shudder at his words. Only minutes had passed since your orgasm but fuck, you needed him as much as he needed you.
With a series of nods, you beckoned him over, bringing your lips to his for a brief minute. Your hands trailed over his chest, grazing the back of his neck before finding their place on his upper back.
A low sigh blew from Lando's lips, his eyes trailed to where your hips met before coming back up to meet yours. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in your touch before holding your gaze firmly. He called your name. "I love you. So fucking much. You're all I want... forever."
His confession made you warm all over. You could feel your eyes water slightly. With a tight smile, you brought your hand to caress his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch. "I love you too."
Those words were music to his ears. Without a second to waste, his hips moved, cock thrusting into you so deeply that you can't help but let out a small cry of pleasure, hand covering your mouth.
Lando wanted to fold. Right there and then. You felt so good around him. As though heaven had found him. But all he could do is moan your name, feeling you tightly clench around his cock.
His eyes flitted to your face when he heard your muffled moans. His arms stretched out to keep your hands away from your mouth and on his back. "Let me hear you, baby. Yell my name. Tell me how good you feel."
Your body jolted as his thrusts became deeper and somehow, you felt like you were only becoming more aroused. Your skin felt sticky, riddled with sweat as your slickness coated your thighs.
Lando groaned at the sight. You were making a mess of him, dripping all over his cock as your eyes became lost in a haze. His hand reached out, jutting your chin to make sure you were looking at him. "Keep looking at me. Look at what you do to me."
Lando's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you over so you straddled his cock, riding him into a new oblivion.
And you did look. You watched him fuck into you with a speed and depth you had missed so dearly. You watched him memorise you as though he was afraid to forget you. You watched him make love to you.
Your second orgasm began to build up as the obscene sounds of your skin slapping against one another filled the room. Your body shook at the feel of Lando's thumb against your clit, rubbing you as he entirely ruined you.
"Lando, I–" you mewled, unable to get the words out.
"I know," Lando responded, holding the same level of restrain and pleasure as his own climax built up. "Cum," he almost cried out, "please."
You could barely keep your eyes open as the tight coil in your stomach snapped. You trembled in his grasp, cumming all over his cock, hips almost unstoppable as they chased those waves.
The tight clench your orgasm brought around his cock sent him over. Lando fingers sunk into your skin. "Fuck, where, tell me where," he begged, impossibly close.
You quivered, still in the remaining moments of your orgasm. "Inside," you panted, "please, Lan." There's nothing more that I want than your cum."
Lando rasped, hips stilling at your words as his cum spilled into you, filling you in all the the right places. His grip on you loosened as he slowly pulled out of you.
You shivered at his fixated gaze of your mixed cum seeping out of your pussy. Lando fell into the bed, closing his eyes, muttering things under his breath to restrain himself. You held in your laughter as he left the bed, almost painfully, to grab a wet towel from the bathroom to clean you up.
You kissed his cheek gently, thanking him as he finished cleaning all the witness dripping your thighs. Putting aside the towel, you pulled the duvet over you and Lando, nestling up to his warm body.
You could feel the softness of your mattress and duvet conform around your body while Lando rested beside you, taking you in. You mended your brows at the sudden silence. "Penny for your thoughts?" You queried, poking his cheek before rubbing his face with the pad of your thumb.
Lando leaned into your touch, warm blue eyes grazing over your face. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss onto the side of your hand. "Every day without you felt miserable and now... I can't believe you're actually in front of me. "
Your eyes softened. "I'm here," you reassured, "forever."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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burntoutdaydreamer · 11 months
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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write
I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)
I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.
1) My first draft stays between me and God
I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.
I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.
Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?
Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.
Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.
If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.
2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen
I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.
Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.
If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.
3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word
My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.
I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.
If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.
Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.
4) Write Out of Order
This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.
Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.
I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?
When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.
Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.
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renthony · 4 days
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My sleep schedule has been wildly inconsistent again, and I would like to lodge a formal complaint with whatever deity is in charge of that. It doesn't matter how hard I try to force myself to stick to a consistent schedule, it never holds longer than a week. I'll suddenly find that a bedtime that was working perfectly well last week is no longer viable, because my brain won't fucking turn off and let me pass out.
I basically only ever fall asleep if I have exhausted myself to the point of collapse. I have to run myself ragged or my body won't come to a natural rest. I will lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours until I finally give up and go find something to do. And then do it until I'm dead on my feet and can finally sleep.
Several medications have already tried and failed to address the issue. I have resigned myself to a lifetime of disabling sleep needs that make me inconvenient to everyone around me. And it fuckin' sucks.
Shout-out to the other sleep-disordered fucks out there. I am sorry we must Suffer.
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scourgeofmyownbrain · 3 months
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Ladies and Gentlemen, Bitches and Bastards, Witches and Wizards, Mothers and Fuckers. Esteemed robot enjoyers, I present to you a semi-accurate height comparison of Bumblebee across the multiverse (as of July 2024). This really helps visualize the truly staggering differences between universes, at least height-wise. Also, three of these characters are Canonically the Same Guy; guess which ones.
I spent way too much time on the chart in the back it's not even funny. I will probably make more height charts for more TF characters and universes in the future. Don't expect it soon though, because when I make these, I am fueled by pure I-Got-Bored-At-Work-And-I-Have-Decided-To-Fool-Around-With-Robot-PNGs, and that fuel supply is inconsistent at best.
Hey Fun Fact, Did you know that Generation 1 Optimus Prime is around 19 Feet Tall? Bet some of you already knew that. I have no ulterior motives for bringing this fact up, what are you talking about.
My height explanations are below the cut, because you couldn't shut me up if you tried.
In an order:
Gen 1 - ~10 feet (the wiki says greater than 3 meters so I rounded up to the first whole number because round)
Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~10 feet (He looks identical to Gen 1 so... the reason his photo looks weird is because I couldn't find a good full body photo with him standing straight up facing the camera so I put two images together to make the worst looking photoshop job you have ever seen)
Earth Spark - 10 feet (There is no confirmed height yet but using a screen shot of him standing in front of a barn door I was able to make a reasonable guess.)
Animated - 12 feet (I have no genuine source for this, I think this info is just someone's guesstimate, but it seems reasonable. He's a tiny two door mini car, how big could he be)
New Live Action - 15 feet (The wiki hath declared. Also do we have a name for this universe because we need one I don't want to keep saying like 6 words to differentiate this one from bayverse)
Bayverse V1 - 16 feet (This is like the first 3 movies minimum, I don't remember when he hits his growth spurt. also wiki my love)
Cyberverse - 18 feet (I'm gonna be honest, the only info we have is from a really shitty screen shot of a magazine. SO if any one has a copy of this book from the video below, a high quality scan would be greatly appreciated and I will kiss the ground you walk upon. Yes I found the video where the screen shot comes from leave me alone)
Bayverse V2 - 18 feet (movie 4-5 I can't remember which one, I'm not re-looking this up. I fucking love the bayverse tho, this is the only universe with concrete and consistent this-character-is-this-height info)
Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - 20 feet (video game info screens you god send, kiss me sweetly)
Aligned Cont. TFP/RID15 - 21 feet (I do not know exactly where these numbers were found, but I fully fucking believe them. Just by looking at these characters on the show I can verify these numbers in my mind. They made specifically this universe to be full of freakishly tall robots for some fucking reason.)
And for any one who doesn't know, the three tallest are the same guy. Like the 20 feet tall one and the 21 feet tall ones, same guy. The ones in three wildly different art styles and designs. Let that sink in...
I fucking hate the aligned continuity why is that one my favorite.
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ferretrix · 10 months
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hey, long time admirer of your stuff! ive just been wondering, though, how exactly do you do your eyes? like.. obviously they're different from character to character, but how do you usually form them and whatnot?
thank you ! - 💥
heya thank you :) it's been a while since i answered one of these in depth but for you good anon i will try my best..... Here's the simple answer:
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Here is some more thought-process/behind the scenes stuff:
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Obviously head angle determines many things about drawing eyes; I've been trying harder to keep it in mind when I'm putting lines down, and it'll generally make them look more grounded/offer better depth. The main takeaway from head angle is how are the eye sockets oriented. Doing drawovers of photographs is a cheap+easy way to get a feel for this, but I wouldn't worry about 100% anatomical accuracy; what I'm trying to get a feel for is the placement of eyes versus the brow/nose bridges.
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The amount of detail I put into eyes is wildly inconsistent haha it rly depends on the piece and art style, but the (for lack of a better word) "definition lines" and spots of black in deep shadow make up most of the detailed stuff. I'm still not great at drawing massively distinctive eye shapes but I try to maintain a general sense of one for different faces (ex. Rectangular, narrow, round, angled up or down). I'll also be the first to admit it takes a lot of conscious thought to reproduce the same line variation/angles in someone's eyes each time you draw them, but if you're looking for advice on consistency those are examples of traits I'd keep in mind.
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That's it for the most part.... I don't think the way I draw eyes is particularly unique lol so here are a few things that have gotten me where I am:
other people's art, a lot of which is manga. when I say naruto taught me to draw im only half joking hwheeze. my art tastes lean towards manga/comic stylization so none of this is hugely realistic overall....
that being said, I do like the more realistic side of manga/comic art so photo studies/anatomy tips have still been useful to me
this tutorial by sinix is one of my favorite things ever, because it explicitly discusses both anatomical knowledge AND how to translate that into shorthand
thanks for the ask!
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murkycran · 5 months
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Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List
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Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).
I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.
These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.
Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!
✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.
Fic Rec List Masterpost
Staticmoth Fic Rec List
Misc. Vox Fic Rec List
------
Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch
Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.
Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.
Let's Misbehave by joosymango
Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?
Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^
Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?
Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?
[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]
Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!
You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.
Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.
Sequel to Safe with Me.
Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...
You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.
Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.
Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola
After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.
Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!
Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x
Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.
During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.
Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...
But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?
Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)
Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.
Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳
Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.
Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D
Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.
Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.
Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.
Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.
Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.
Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.
Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming
Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.
Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.
Static by passthevoxcord
Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester
Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up
Notes: Very good PWP.
Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts
Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳
Observer by DeviousPossum
Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.
Alastor.
Alastor.
What the fuck. Alastor is singing.
Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.
Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3
RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar
Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.
Sharkblocking by Anonymous
Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.
In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.
Notes: VARK!
Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms
Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.
So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.
... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.
Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀
gift of the magi by vol_ctrl
Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."
Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^
the lost tape by vol_ctrl
Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl
Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.
Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl
Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...
[Stand-alone staticradio]
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD
Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest
Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.
Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.
Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.
Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.
Russian Roulette by spappest
Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.
Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.
Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest
Summary: Alastor goes into rut.
Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.
Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.
Killer Ex by FanGirl48
Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.
A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.
Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3
Negotiations by FanGirl48
Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.
But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.
Damnit Valentino!
Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"
Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast
Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.
Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.
Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.
Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.
Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.
What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344
Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.
When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.
Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^
Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.
Notes: So, so good.
Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.
Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…
Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^
To Be Yours by pinegreenapples
Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.
Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;
oleanders in june by spoondrifts
Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.
If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.
Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.
Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.
equilibrium by curtailed
Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.
Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.
Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.
candlelight by curtailed
Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?
OR
Alastor and Vox play house.
Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol
wallow by curtailed
Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.
Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.
Addicted by Dancingdog
Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.
But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.
His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.
Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.
Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell
Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.
Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.
Uneasy by Saezs
Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”
Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.
Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.
Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)
Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander
Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”
The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.
A voice for radio.
Oh shit.
... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.
From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?
Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃
Days Long Past by Momo52
Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.
While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.
Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.
Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)
Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.
or, alternatively...
The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.
Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol
Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin
Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.
Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".
Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow
Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.
So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.
Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;
Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”
“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”
“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”
OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.
Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss
Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.
But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.
Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.
Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.
surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.
Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.
an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”
“What, so you mean he just up and left?”
“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”
“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.
Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^
we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.
Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.
Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.
What Has Been by Tianren
Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?
Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s
Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.
Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!
(Fic rec list to be continued)
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tabootoji · 3 months
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"LOVE IT WHEN HE HIT AND SMACK TOO"
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TRAINING DAY - PART 3 OF SELFISH DESIRES ← pt. 2
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✰ - SYNOPSIS: it's time for you to advance your skills as a curse user if you hope to remain by suguru's side, and who else better to train you than the worst one of all time? (or) you and suguru get down and dirty in the middle of a yoga session. ✰ - WC: 2.8k ✰ - TAGS: reader is female, short, black and curvy, semi public, obsession/possessive, size diff., nipple play, dry humping, groping, pussy slapping, cunnilingus, v. intercourse, dirty talk, praise, belly press, f. orgasm, creampie, no use of (y/n), all lower case ✰ - A/N: our reader is finally going through her training arc! (kinda :P) so ofc i used the opportunity to feed my imagination with the idea of geto in a compression shirt hehe (which was kinda inspired by this). also i put in a really small gojo mention, i was debating on whether i should in this story or not, but since i did say i'm sorta following canon events it just made sense to. anyways, we have one part left, so i hope y'all like how the story's been going so far!
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since the 'incident' with manami, suguru has been carrying himself around the sacred temple with an extra pep in his step. and why wouldn't he? the amount of followers coming to the temple seems to have doubled, maybe even tripled in a short amount of time - which meant more curses to add to his arsenal. the wealthy contributions to their organization have also skyrocketed, granting everyone in the shrine a life of comfortability. above all, suguru was able to walk with his head held high knowing that now, all had graciously accepted your position as his one and only beloved, staying right by his side where you belonged.
however, there was an elephant in the room that he had yet to address: training you. suguru's group consisted of strong, sharp-witted shamans who stood ready to follow his every command. and although he had no intentions of ever putting you in a situation where your life would be in danger, he needed to know that if there was ever a time he or the other curse users couldn't protect you, you'd be able to defend yourself. he also hoped that coaching you would in turn boost your confidence in your own skill and abilities, putting you amongst the ranks of your peers.
suguru made up his mind that at least once a week, he would clear a part of his schedule to physically train you, as well as guide you to perfect your cursed technique. you were hesitant to the idea at first, but after much coaxing, you agreed as long as he promised he would start off teaching you slowly. so today, he stands in the center of the traditional garden behind the sanctuary with yoga mats sprawled on the freshly trimmed lawn, waiting for you to join him so he could start you off with the basics.
suguru decided to forgo his usual long, flowing garments for a more casual look. he donned a compression shirt that fit tightly around his athletic torso, loose sweatpants that hung off of his defined waist, and opted to stay barefooted with nothing on his feet. it was a sunny afternoon, and the clear blue skies accompanying the warm sun that casted a radiant glow over the magnificent oasis gave the fake buddhist priest much to think about as he awaited your arrival.
he thought of the irony of him currently adapting a teaching role in his current position, a role he so desperately tried to run away from when he abandoned jujutsu society. he was sure his former best friend from a period so long ago it felt like it happened in a different lifetime would laugh at him if he saw him right now. suguru closed his eyes as favorable memories of his youth flashed in inconsistent intervals in his mind that the dreadful ones had yet to cloud before he was interrupted by a familiar soft, melodic voice calling his name.
opening them, suguru instantly felt a pleasant tranquility wash over him at the sight of you. sporting a gym top with yoga pants, you stood with a beaming smile on your face, head slightly tilted as you asked if he was alright. he chuckled to himself, shaking his head and dispelling your worries by bending down to your height to peck your forehead. when the troubles of his past barred their ugly fangs, of course he knew he would be fine, as long as he could gaze at you, his future.
you feel your cheeks heat up, very sure that your face was covered in a red blush at not just suguru's affectionate gesture, but by how hunky he looked in his current attire. you don't usually get the chance to see him in anything else besides his robes, so you quickly take a mental image of how his massive arms seemed so close to ripping through the elasticity of his shirt, and how his structured v-line and sexy happy trail peeked out of the band of his sweats.
once you and suguru decide that you're ready to start, you both sit beside each other on one of the yoga mat's cross legged, and begin to meditate. pushing a curly strand of hair that fell out of your styled high bun behind your ear, you try to listen to his prompts to close your eyes, focus on your breathing and rid your mind and body of any anxiety you're feeling.
contradicting his own teachings, suguru takes the opportunity to eye you from top to bottom suggestively. your cropped sports tank top had a slight dip in the neckline that gave him a glimpse of your deep cleavage. and because of how the top was tied behind you, your ample breasts were pushed up, threatening to spill out if you made one wrong move (which suguru was indeed hoping for). and don't get him started on your damn yoga pants. the sheer, tight fitted garment not only hugged your delectable curves in just the right way, your rich skin was visible behind them. suguru's cock twitched at the idea of how easy it would be to rip them right off of you.
but alas, he had to stay focused. after he deemed that you were relaxed enough to move on to stretches, suguru instructed you into the first position. as you lay on your back with your arms flat on the mat, he kneeled in front of you, telling you to bend your knees and lift your pelvic region off of the ground. however, after a couple of seconds your legs begin to shake, already threatening to falter your current pose. when suguru holds your hips firmly in place with his hands on either side of you, your eyes shoot up at the thunderbolt of dopamine rushing through your veins you feel every time the two of you touch. teasingly, he smirks at you. "looks like ya gonna need some help, little one. mind if i assist ya?"
if you thought your face was red before, you were certain you resembled a tomato as you nodded your head slowly, nervously accepting suguru's offer. you've barely had to go through any physical endurance throughout the span of your life, so all of this was fairly new to you. you were already doubting how you were going to perform, now you've advanced to worried at the idea of the well built, good looking man before you grazing your body through it. get your mind out of the gutter and focus, you thought to yourself.
however, this would prove to be especially hard during the next position suguru aids you with. with your back still on the floor, he grasps the back of one of your thick thighs and holds it as far as it can comfortably go, which wasn't much without any force being applied. to your surprise, he situates his groin in between your legs, places your foot onto his broad shoulder, and slowly leans towards your face to deepen the stretch. your size difference is apparent now more than ever as his tall frame hovers over your short one. you're now unsure if your perspiration is due to the hot sun or the sexual implications of this yoga pose.
suguru thanks himself for his choice of outfit, knowing his growing hard on would be embarrassingly apparent right now if not for his baggy pants. though the more you both continued these sensual stretches, the less interest he had in modesty, wanting his sinful thoughts to be known by you. "ya doin' alright baby?" he asks jestfully. suguru watches you bite your lip bashfully at the pet name, humming your confirmation. cute. so, so, cute.
you move on to model your best child's pose, suguru behind you almost passing out looking at you. with the way your knotted shirt twists behind you, he was able to admire the curve of your lower back and the matter in which it dipped in the center. when he tells you to progress into a cat pose, suguru doesn't even give you time to go into the paralleled cow's position, becoming enthralled by your mesmerizing arch and proceeding to grab your waist to push your bottom against his lap.
you gasp in surprise, looking behind at suguru as he slots his covered, rock hard boner in between your clothed pussy lips. wordlessly, he begins to fondle your body, groping the fat of your gut and ass, before reaching beneath your tight top to palm your huge tits, pulling and twisting your taut nipples with his rough fingers mercilessly.
at the sudden, yet thrilling stimulation, you compulsively mewl out his name, grinding your butt against his bugle, and it awakens something inside of him. in the blink of an eye suguru's previous thoughts become reality as he uses his powerful strength to rip open the stemming of your leggings to expose your crotch to him. to his disappointment, the fabric of your cotton underwear stands in the way of his pot of gold. at the speed of lighting he gives your nether regions a sudden 'smack', causing you to squeal at the sensation of pain and pleasure becoming one. "panties? really girl? y'know better than that." he reprimands you.
before you get the chance to explain that you wore them for the sake of the training, never in your wildest dreams being able to predict that the two of you would end up doing this in the middle of it, he slides the flimsy fabric to the side to reveal your already leaking pussy. watching your tightly rimmed hole pulse with anticipation only doubles his insatiable craving to taste you, so without hesitation suguru bends down till he's eye level with your cunt, sticks the wet mass of his tongue out, and licks a long stripe up your quivering genitals.
his eyes roll to the back of his head as he savors your succulent nectar. suctioning his moist lips, suguru sucks up your wetness that dribbles into his awaiting mouth in quick successions. you suddenly become all too aware that you're right at the center of the facilities public garden where the gardeners, servants, any resident of the building could stroll through and witness both of your current indiscretions. but the way suguru flicks your sensitive clit with his flat pink tongue is just too good for you to care right now.
your knees buckle and your trembling voice begins to increase in pitch as suguru continues to messily eat your pussy from the back. you could have confused him for a famished man in the middle of the desert with the way he was slurping your sopping cunt. and if that wasn't enough, he began to prod the muscular organ deep into your delicate flower, as if he was trying to reach the barricades of your soul with just his mouth alone. and every time you tried to squirm away from his passionate lapping's, he would bury his face till his nose nuzzled into your vagina, lolling out his tongue to swipe your bundle of nerves from side to side.
just when you're on the brink of cumming all over his face, suguru retracts from your pussy, panting so loudly you could feel his cool, minty breath tickling you. you huff out in frustration from not receiving the spine tingling orgasm you were anticipating, pouting angrily at him. he plants a parting kiss to your cunt, then leans forward to mutter in your ear four words that make you immediately forget why you were frowning your face in the first place.
"i need you. now."
shame almost overtakes you as you drawl out an eager chant of yeses, but that quickly disappears when suguru rushes to pull his leisurely pants down to the top of his knees, swiftly springing out his now enraged cock before taking it in his hands and thrusting it against your womanhood. collecting all of your excitement onto his thick length, he slides it into your tense awaiting walls.
you both groan in satisfaction as suguru fills you up to the brim with almost no resistance. he almost can't believe he was able to, considering how tight of a fit it is whenever he pushes himself into you the first time. either he's finally fucked you enough for your gummy canals to become his personal fleshlight, or the stretching you did beforehand must have really did its job and relaxed you.
and although the two may be true, he's currently attributing your new flexibility to the later. now that you're warmed up from your previous light workout, you're able to angle your rear side till the front of your torso is pressed onto the yoga mat. looking at you grip the sharp blades of grass with your hands till you're almost pulling them out of the ground, further entices suguru to draw his hips back, before railing his desperate cock back into you.
you and suguru set a ferocious pace, him using brute force to barrel his veiny dick into your sex while you match his thrusts, throwing your curvaceous body back as he drives forward. both of your risqué behavior contradicts the peaceful atmosphere of the beautiful garden surrounding the two of you. the soothing pour of the fountains, the unique chirps of the foreign birds that home the piece of land, and the gorgeous flowers in bloom juxtapose the slapping sounds of your ass cheeks hastily colliding with suguru's thighs, your squelching pussy wrapping around his large membrane with a vicious gripe, and your conjoined wails as he continues to defile you.
you realize you may be just as lecherous as he is as your indecorous spectacle shockingly exhilarates you the more you both achieve your desirous commands of one another.
your jaw slacks open when suguru repeatedly lurches his round cockhead to bump against your tender womb. "su-sugu...right there, right there!" you encourage him. he digs his fingers into your luscious lumps to allow himself to delve even further inside your numbing cunt than you thought humanly possible. "ya like that princess? huh? my dainty toy wants it rough? right here?" he finishes his sentence by pressing his sizable hand against your chubby stomach to feel the point of intrusion.
his filthy words are the final nail in the coffin, consequently imploding your snug cunt as flows of your secretion burst around the girth of suguru's unrelenting cock. you're on cloud nine, your entire body falling slack as you allow him to use it for his own lustful volition. "look so good takin' me, fuck, gonna ruin ya baby girl...agh! cumming...m' cumming, here it comes...!" he grits his teeth in anguish, feeling your pussy cruelly squeeze the life out of him, leaving him dizzy. the steadfast movement of his hips finally stutters as he spurts his heavy load into your belly.
he lunches forward after experiencing his sweet rapture, both of you breathless from your endeavors. while your consciousness slowly comes back to earth, suguru takes the opportunity to pull his weighty shaft out of you. he quickly repositions your underwear back on, the semen pouring out of your abused cunt quickly dampening it. you scrunch your nose at the wetness pooling in your undergarments, kneeling up with suguru and bashfully looking at the aftermath of your robust sex.
suguru has to hold in his laugh by giving the top of your head another long kiss. how fast you switched from a crazed vixen back to his angelic, coy girl was so adorable. "i think that's enough training for the day, don't you think little one?" he asks jokingly, helping you both to your feet while you giggle at him. he will have to make sure that starting next week, you both begin taking your lessons more seriously. starting off by making sure you don't wear anymore revealing outfits, unless you wanted to get your bones jumped again.
"agreed, i think i'm definitely in need of a shower after our...exercise." you chuckled. but before you take a step towards the entrance of the monastery, you glance down at your pants, quickly realizing its tattered state. you look up at him in alarm. "suguru...i can't walk around the sanctuary like this." without another word he pulls his own top off, helping you put it over your head so it covers your bare regions.
suguru now stands before you shirtless, sweat glistening off of his beautiful skin. you ogle at him like it's the first time you've seen him naked, because how could you not? it was as if the man's abdominals were carved by the gods themselves. you have to take a strained gulp to keep yourself from literally drooling before you take his hand to hold in yours possessively. "will you...join me.?" you ask him.
momentarily stunned by your request, he quickly recovers and lets a mischievous grin form on the sides of his face. "thought you'd never ask darling." he whispers in your ear provocatively, walking with you hand in hand into the premises. suguru wouldn't worry too much about skipping your training for today, because he was going to have plenty of time to build your endurance and stamina.
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imaginespazzi · 3 months
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mind you ashlynn has scored more than azzi ever has in an ncaa tournament game. nobody ignores flaws in their games but azzi has had few standout performances in the essentially the same amount of games as the freshmen. as someone who actually watches basketball, i do think ashlynn’s ceiling is higher. she’s shown to put up very similar numbers to azzi despite having a lesser role in the offense. ashlynn and azzi have more or less the same flaws in their game except ashlynn actually believes in herself at all times and isn’t easily spooked. geno can talk all he wants but the body work is the same and so are the numbers. wish azzi could stay healthy and let her game talk but so far it’s just been talking for 3 years. at some point we’re gonna need consistency from that 2 spot and ash is looking like that girl.
First of all, the snarky "as someone who actually watches basketball" is very much unappreciated and was quite frankly unnecessary.
Comparison is difficult with Azzi because of injuries. Her averages, which you are correct, are similar to Ash's, do not define her because they are inconsistent in terms of health. When healthy, Azzi is absolute the player with the higher potential and the higher ceiling and the numbers do back that up when you look only at games that Azzi was fully healthy in.
But nonetheless let's do a more accurate comparison that is more fair that comparing averages, where I'm just gonna give you both of their last-10-game stretch points (the efficiencies were similar) at the end of their freshman year (where they were both in good health), leading up to the big east so we can compare both their scoring ability and their consistency:
This is Ash:
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And this is Azzi:
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As you can see, they both had bad games during that stretch, but one of them clearly had better games. If you wanna play the rebounds and assists game, then yes Ash is absolutely the better rebounds but Azzi has better court vision.
And the thing you didn't touch upon, where Azzi clears Ash by an absolute mile is defense. Geno has praised her defense over and over again and we've seen it in games where she's healthy.
I'm not trying to hate on Ash and I absolutely agree that her mentality is much better and I love seeing her be free on the court. And I actually do agree with your point about Azzi letting her game talk, but at the end of the day, if Azzi Fudd is healthy and at her best, in my opnion, she is the 2nd best player on that team.
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brucebocchi · 6 months
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Winter 2024 anime, Pt. 2: Mixed reactions, the bench, and the gems
hey y'all, this is also up on my ko-fi! it's free to read both here and there, but i'm struggling financially rn so i could appreciate if you'd throw a few bucks my way if you liked it! part 1 can be found here.
And we're back for part 2! Here's all the new stuff I finished this season, and one more I'll get back to later. As with before, these are sorted alphabetically within each category and are not ranked as of yet.
Also as before, the OP for each series is linked in the title. Check them all out if the header images aren't giving you the right feel for each show, but also check them out because most of them were actually pretty damn good this season.
[Solo Leveling OP voice] LET'S GET IT!
Mixed Bags:
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Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!
Your standard, quasi-harem “easily flustered Regular Guy wins over hot girls just by being really nice” shonen romcom. I really don’t have much to say about this one other than if you’ve seen My Dress-Up Darling, you’ve basically seen this already. The only thing that really sets it apart is the setting.
Tsubasa (voiced by Nobunaga Shimazaki, in a FAR cry from his turn as Mahito in Jujutsu Kaisen) is a straight-laced Tokyoite whose family situation lands him in a small city in the frozen boonies of Hokkaido. While looking for the bus to his new house, he runs into a gyaru in the snowy wild, the underdressed, hilariously-proportioned Minami, and they hit it off. It turns out they go to the same school, there are other cute girls there who take a shine to him as well, it’s nothing new.
I ultimately don’t have much to say about Hokkaido Gals, but I do have a soft spot for series like this, and after reading ahead in the manga I felt obligated to see it through. This is all junk food, but it’s all stuff you’ve seen done better in other series. I also have a soft spot for gyaru in anime and manga, and while I do like Minami just fine, she isn’t Marin Kitagawa or Rumiko Manbagi. I don’t really have it in me to recommend this show to many, though, at least not until another season rolls around, if that ever happens. The manga genuinely does get a lot better as it goes on, but the really worthwhile stuff may not happen until a third season, and I just don’t see that happening. 
The manga has issues that the anime isn’t willing or able to solve, chief of which being the visuals. The art style of the manga is wildly inconsistent, and getting a mediocre animation team on this didn’t help matters at all. While the colors often pop nicely against the pretty, snowy backdrops, nobody looks all that great overall. The characters are recognizable, but they just plain don’t look great a lot of the time, nor do they look consistent from one cut to the next; I said that Minami’s proportions are hilarious, but just as hilarious is how wildly they vacillate from one scene to the next for the sake of trying to titillate the viewer.
My biggest takeaway from both the manga and anime was everything I learned about Hokkaido in the process, and if the series is taking subsidies from the island’s tourism bureau, then it’s a job well done. I want some goddamn jingisukan now. The OP is a great time, though. I’m shocked it took over a decade for us to get a proper “Uptown Funk” knockoff in an anime.
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Metallic Rouge
I’ll be upfront in saying that this was my biggest disappointment of the season by far. This show had so much going for it, and what we got was… ugh.
There was an unbelievable amount of promise from the outset: This was Studio Bones’ commemorative 25th anniversary production, and coming from the studio that gave us all-timer adaptations like Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mob Psycho 100, not to mention later works from Cowboy Bebop creator Shinichiro Watanabe (including the Cowboy Bebop movie), you can’t fault anyone for having high expectations. It looked to be a fitting production as well: Watanabe’s influence shines through immediately in the gorgeous, lived-in cyberpunk off-world locales and racially diverse cast. Action takes the form of dope robo-tokusatsu transformation fisticuffs, and it’s entirely in 2D animation to boot. The first couple of episodes were killer, too; everything looked and sounded amazing, and there were just enough plot threads teased out that I just had to see how they’d unravel.
It brings me no joy, then, to say that Metallic Rouge collapses into a jumbled mess. I don’t even want to bother talking about what happens in the show because I don’t fucking care anymore. There are few media experiences more sobering than to have it dawn on you over a span of several weeks that “oh… this isn’t actually all that good, is it?” Episode after episode piles on with sloppy lore, weak worldbuilding, warring factions whose names you immediately forget, pointless double-crosses, and the most predictable twist you’ve ever seen. For a while I was willing to accept the fact that I didn’t know what was going on half the time and expected things to become clearer, but now I’m not entirely sure the writers knew either. The stakes apparently kept rising and everything just kept getting more claustrophobic. I’m glad it’s over, if only because if I had to hear “Clair de Lune” one more fucking time, I was going to go ballistic. 
There are several attempts at emotional beats, as the story is rife with tragedy and sacrifice, and every single one lands with a wet thud. Nobody gets enough time, motivation, or characterization for any of these things to feel like they actually matter, and that’s especially a shame because the finale might have been able to stick the landing if the previous episodes were less dense and better paced. Emphasis on “almost,” though, because just before the season ends, we get the absolute most pointless fakeout I’ve seen since The Rise of Skywalker, which is the lowest point of comparison you can make for any work of sci-fi.
This is especially frustrating because on paper, there is so much to like here. Rouge and Naomi are likable-enough deuteragonists with a fun dynamic, and they’d make easy yuri bait in a better show. The characters are all pretty and uniquely designed across the board, and the overall aesthetic, almost a pastiche of late-90’s anime futurism, is undeniable. The toku suit designs are neat and several of the action scenes are gorgeous. The score and soundtrack are outstanding (except for the aforementioned Debussy indulgence). I have few complaints about how the show looks and sounds; the style is great! All of my issues lie with the substance.
Metallic Rouge may have had all the ingredients, but it just needed more time to cook; whether that would have been by doubling the episode count or by more carefully planning the pacing and trimming some of the fat from the lore, I’m still not sure. Probably both. It probably needed better writers, too. Maybe it just isn’t as smart as it acts and there was no way to satisfyingly resolve the clumsy civil rights allegories that bring it uncomfortably close to the likes of Detroit: Become Human. So all of the above, I guess. I tend to adore stories that involve artificially-intelligent beings developing their own wills and emotions and learning to cut their own strings (the likes of Blade Runner, Nier Automata, even a couple of character arcs in the Persona series), but this ain’t it. I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just disappointed.
If there are two positives that will stick with me, though, they would be the absolute banger of an OP and, of course, Naomi Orthmann herself (pictured above, left). Outstanding character design. I’m mildly obsessed. She deserved a better show.
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The Unwanted Undead Adventurer
This one isn’t even worth talking about, so here’s a brief synopsis, then I’ll add some commentary, and then we’ll all move on with our lives. 
Rentt, a beloved but mediocre adventurer in a fantasy town, gets lost in the mysterious labyrinth that all adventurers explore for personal gain, gets waxed by a dragon, and awakens as a shitty-looking CGI skeleton. He notices, though, that he’s able to level up better as a skeleton than he did as a human, and with the more monsters he defeats, the more he evolves into something closer to human. The rest isn’t really worth discussing.
If I’m being honest, I should’ve dropped this show much sooner. It looks kinda lousy most of the time, the plot (inasmuch as there even is one) is boring, character designs are forgettable (except for Rentt’s closest ally, Lorraine, holy hell) and it seems wholly uninterested in actually building its own setting. If it returns for a second season, I won’t be there, nor will I feel like I’m missing anything. Each episode felt like a chore to watch. I probably only saw it through because 1) I liked looking at Lorraine, I know what I’m about, and 2) I didn’t want to lump it in with the shows I did drop. The Unwanted Undead Adventurer isn’t as patently upsetting or frustrating as those three, but it just plain isn’t a very good show.
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The Witch and the Beast
This show could have been so much more. I was drawn in by the gorgeous character designs and intriguing blend of Victorian gothic aesthetics and architecture with modern infrastructure, and very quickly disappointed by just about everything else. The first episode is an exceptional proof of concept, and almost everything that follows is an upsetting showcase of what could have been.
The story centers around Ashaf, a languid, chain-smoking agent of the governing church with a big-ass coffin strapped to his back, and his partner Guideau, a snarling hyena in a young woman’s body, as they investigate abuses of magic across the continent in search of nefarious witches. Guideau in particular has a bone to pick with witches, as the body they presently inhabit is the result of a witch’s curse, and they remain in furious pursuit of the one who cursed them. The curse can be temporarily undone by a kiss with a witch, allowing Guideau’s true body, a hulking brute confined to the coffin, to escape and wreak havoc. Meaning that on a few occasions we get a girl-on-girl kiss followed by a big dude wrecking shit. There’s also other investigations of serial killings, necromancy, and a cursed sword, and here’s hoping you like those, because the coffin breaks are few and far between.
This wasn’t great! By the third episode I had the sneaking suspicion that the animation talent on hand just wasn’t enough to support the aesthetic. While the character designs are exceptional, almost everyone looks awful in any shot that isn’t completely focused on them. This is especially true of Guideau, who looks so inconsistently off-model from one shot to the next that I’m still not entirely sure what they’re supposed to look like, and that’s kind of unforgivable when we’re talking about a main character. Everything looks too dim and too shiny at the same time, and action scenes look like shit more often than they look interesting. I can see so many flickers of something excellent (or at least really good-looking) in Witch and the Beast, and everything else that keeps those flickers from actually igniting makes it so much more frustrating to watch. Maybe just read the manga instead; the panels I've seen from it were uniformly gorgeous.
Actually, yeah, you should probably just read the manga, because for a season of anime, the pacing is atrocious too. It’s clearly trying to angle for a monster-of-the-week format, but each of these mini-arcs is a little too dense for a single episode, so multiple episodes are dedicated to these one-off curiosities, most of which do nothing to advance the plot or show off what the show does best. And if one of them isn’t particularly interesting, you’re saddled with it for the next two weeks like you've been stuck munching on a mealy apple. And I know you can only adapt so much in a 12-episode season, but the decision to end the season on a flashback arc and a lore dump was baffling. That’s not world-building, that’s lazy, and it made the show’s existing pacing issues feel that much more inane.
I feel like I was sold a false bill of goods. I can only imagine how the mangaka feels about this. Dull and uninspiring all around. What a waste.
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The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic
Isekai, unassuming high school boy gains a unique power, impending war with the Demon Lord, yadda yadda yadda. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic isn’t anything new or special by any means, nor is it particularly well-animated or -paced, but at its best it’s silly and charming enough that it made a nice, brainless palate cleanser on Fridays.
Usato, your standard quiet high schooler, ends up walking home on a rainy evening with the popular, attractive student council president and VP, when an isekai portal happens. It turns out that it was just the seito-kai that was invited along for the ride (and President Suzune, as it turns out, is fucking psyched to get to be in an isekai), and Usato got caught along with them. When tested for magical aptitude, Suzune and VP Kazuki hit the jackpot with electric and light affinities, respectively, but things go awry when Usato’s reading turns up with healing magic. Terror strikes the palace as the intimidating dommy-mommy Captain Rose barges in to spirit Usato away from his new friends and into her squadron of goons to train him as a combat medic.
As character comedy goes, this one is actually pretty solid at times. Shogo Sakata is plenty of fun as the put-upon, lippy Usato (a much louder role than Chainsaw Man’s Aki Hayakawa), and Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi herself!) is a blast as the terrifying Rose, an uncompromising slave driver of a drill sergeant with a secret soft side. The dynamic between them is great, too; Usato is over Rose’s shit from the beginning and isn’t afraid to talk back to her, but before you know it, this transforms into friendly banter as Rose clearly takes a shine to Usato and knows he can handle any punishment she doles out. Suzune’s also a bunch of fun now that she’s broken away from having to be the competent, popular girl at school and gets to fully lean into being a complete dork.
Wrong Way also works decently as an isekai, because it makes an effort to stay rooted in high fantasy rather than fall back on JRPG mechanics, meaning there are no stat screens! It also avoids the trappings of wish-fulfillment isekai series by having Usato start out as a regular-ass guy; he’s not a Kirito type, just someone Rose sees as a rough gem in need of cutting. There are no cheat skills or OP weapons or anything, just a kid training every day to get stronger so he can protect the people close to him, and that’s the kind of anime protagonist you should want to be.
For better and for worse, I get serious mid-00s vibes from this one; watch the OP if you don’t believe me. Some of the colors pop uncannily in that early-digipaint-era way, and the animation is pretty middling; the most fluid animation we see is whenever Suzune is acting like a creep. Much like those mid-00s anime, though, Wrong Way may have benefited from being weekly (or twice as long) rather than seasonal. There’s a ton of planting with very little payoff, and it doesn’t feel like the actual scope of the story has even been addressed yet. We don’t even learn why the series has the name it does until someone literally says it aloud in the 11th episode. I may have to reevaluate this season after a possible second, if we ever get one, because this doesn’t stand too well on its own.
Of the anime in this “mixed bags” segment, I’d say I enjoyed Wrong Way the most, but it still had enough problems for me to keep it here. It’s not a particularly bad anime, but it’s not especially good either. I guess we can slot it into what Hazel refers to as “good mid.”
On Hold: 
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Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (three episodes watched)
Man, what a title. That was the main draw for this BL series, which on paper is basically a gay version of the Mel Gibson vehicle What Women Want. 
Adachi (a surname that will always make me laugh thanks to Persona 4), a gloomy salaryman, has hit the big 3-0 without getting any, and now he can somehow read anyone’s thoughts just by making physical contact with them. Just as he laments that this is his life now, he accidentally bumps into his handsome, popular coworker, Kurosawa, whom he learns has been harboring a massive crush on Adachi this whole time. Well dang, what now? Kurosawa’s a really nice, thoughtful dude, but Adachi’s never even thought about being with a man before! And isn’t there something wrong with already knowing this secret? How can he even go into the office and look Kurosawa in those big, handsome eyes… every single day…
What I’ve seen so far has been pretty solid, if not particularly well animated. The visuals are really my only gripe here; I just put it off for way too long and didn’t have it in me to finish it on time to actually get this thing written and published. Yaoi isn’t my forte, which feels like a shortcoming on my end as a fledgling bisexual, and I’ve already remarked on the solid LGBT representation this past season, so I do plan on hopping back on this one.
I gotta say, the co-leading voice actors put in serious work this season. Adachi is voiced by Chiaki Kobayashi, who continued his role as Stark in Frieren, returned to Mashle as Mash Burnedead, and contributed to Metallic Rouge’s cluttered cast as Noid. Kurosawa’s seiyuu, Ryota Suzuki (of whom I’ll always be a fan for his masterful turn as Yu Ishigami in Kaguya-sama), also held down leading roles in Bang Brave Bang Bravern and The Unwanted Undead Adventurer. They’ve been great in the few episodes of Cherry Magic! that I’ve seen so far, and they’ll be a huge part of what brings me back.
The Gems:
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Bang Brave Bang Bravern
I feel like the mark of a perfectly audacious piece of media is in the moments where I find myself incredulously shouting “WHAT THE FUCK AM I WATCHING” at the screen, and Bravern made me do that at least once per episode. I have so many things to say about what makes this show great but all of it can be summed up as “it fucks so goddamn hard.”
A joint military exercise in Hawaii between Japanese and American mech pilots goes south as a sudden invasion by metalloid aliens portends certain doom for humanity. Just in the nick of time, though, a bombastic, autonomous mech named Bravern arrives from space and insists that ace pilot Isami Ao take his reins. Isami reluctantly agrees, and to his consternation, Bravern goes full tokusatsu on everyone’s asses, complete with fully-diegetic theme music, and keeps the threat at bay. With Bravern continuing to pester him to act as a pilot, Isami is forced to take up the mantle of a reluctant hero as everyone rallies around Bravern to save Earth. Tagging along is blond-haired, blue-eyed American pilot Lewis Smith, who gets to live out all of his Top Gun fantasies, right down to the latent homosexuality.
That last point isn’t a projection or anything: This show is legitimately gay as hell, and it rules. Bravern’s feelings towards Isami feel far more romantic than what you’d expect from a literal robot, and his description of how it felt to have Isami pilot him for the first time, as relayed to a grim-faced military council, is riddled with hilarious innuendo. Isami struggles not only with shouldering the burden of needing to be a hero to all of humanity, but also being beset on both sides by a loud, insistent mecha and a dewy-eyed gaijin, both of whom very well seem to want to get in his pants. Intricate rituals punctuate Isami and Lewis’ angsty relationship as these broad-shouldered, muscular men grow ever closer. It’s also worth reiterating that Isami is voiced by Ryota Suzuki, who also voiced Kurosawa in Cherry Magic!, and that may not have even been his gayest role this season. I’m not super well-versed in mecha as a genre, but I do know that there’s a lot of Warrior’s Bond-type stuff in these series, and Bravern lays it on thick. And hard.
This show looks killer, by the way. CGI implementation in 2D anime is still a touchy subject, but Bravern features some of the best I’ve ever seen. Simple cel-shading goes a long way to the point where, outside of some uncanny motion, Bravern himself feels perfectly blended into the hand-drawn animation. Mecha designs range from realistic military-style tech to otherworldly sentient robots, and battle sequences run the same gamut as the stakes rise. As goofy as all of the above may sound, it’s committed to being a grandiose, big-time mecha showcase.
This is as good as camp gets in anime; Bravern does for the mecha genre what Akiba Maid War did for yakuza film pastiche (I have also heard positive comparisons to Samurai Flamenco, which I’ll have to get on ASAP). It’s an excellent mecha show in its own right, and wildly hilarious to boot. Bravern himself is very genre-savvy and seemingly a bit of an otaku himself; he loves acting like a mecha hero, to everyone else’s chagrin. Several of the villains (also mechanical beings, voiced by an all-star seiyuu roster that includes Kenjiro Tsuda, the aforementioned Atsuko Tanaka, and Rie Kugimiya) are total dorks themselves. A CIA interrogator tries to waterboard a mecha at one point. Bravern is a deeply silly show, but its heart is planted as firmly on its sleeve as its tongue is in its cheek: For as wacky as it can get, the story still unfolds with a straight face and excellent emotional beats. 
This show also has the most unskippable ED of any anime since Chainsaw Man dropped a new one every week. I will not say what happens. You cannot predict what it is. Just watch it. One of the top YouTube comments on that video says “When I saw this ending after episode 2, I thought I was going crazy.” That’s a ringing endorsement.
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Chained Soldier
On the heels of 100 Girlfriends completely rewiring my brain, I was raring for some more good old-fashioned anime trash. I was told that there would be plenty this season, but you can consult the “dropped” section to see how well that worked out for me. Chained Soldier came with some significant hype, and soon enough into the first episode I realized that I’d actually skimmed through this manga before (don’t ask why), so I was on board immediately. Now here’s some nice trashy fun.
The world is in peril thanks to creatures called Shuuki that can advance on our world via portals from another dimension. Women primarily lead the charge against these monsters, as this dimension produces a special fruit that can lend them (and not men) otherworldly powers to help them in the fight. Yuuki, a perfectly normal young man, ends up in grave danger as he stumbles into a portal, where he is saved by the beautiful Kyouka, a commander who is able to subjugate Shuuki at will and use them to fight others. In a bind, she asks Yuuki if she can subjugate him, which he agrees to by licking her finger and transforming into a monster himself, at her beck and call. Because of his utility in battle, Yuuki is enlisted into her squad of baddies (and also an 11-year-old), living in their home as a caretaker and answering directly to Kyouka as her “slave.”
I know. Hear me out.
I put “slave” in scare quotes because Chained Soldier fortunately isn’t going full Shield Hero on us; this arrangement has a give-and-take baked in. See, every time Yuuki completes his service, Kyouka (or whomever else takes advantage of this anomaly) is compelled to carry out whatever suitable “reward” springs from his unconscious, and this is where the ecchi kicks in. Sometimes it’s a kiss, and sometimes it’s something a little more; the reward corresponds to the length and intensity of Yuuki’s contributions to battle, so the heat can turn up in the form of, say, clothed face-sitting, a good scrubbing in the bath, or some nice, casual CBT. All of this is to say that “slave” is a bit of a buzzword here: It’s more of a dom/sub situationship with a lot of extra steps.
Yes, just about everything that isn’t an action setup is full-on harem trash, and Chained Soldier lays it on thick, right down to full-on nudity. Nothing about this show resembles high art, but I can’t help but admire such a high level of commitment to its aesthetic, including the sleaze. It fully commits to the bit and doesn’t even bother lampshading its own trashiness. Chained Soldier knows what it’s about, and I respect that. It also has the good sense not to sexualize the youngest girl, which is a point in its favor that I can’t award a couple other shows previously discussed.
And while this show is plenty fun, the action sequences often excellent, and the character designs usually delightful, there’s not actually a whole lot going on here. As I said with Mashle, I know that battle manga like this can take a minute to really get cooking, and as I said with Witch and the Beast, 12 episodes may not always be a sufficient runtime to adapt enough to break ground, but the debut season feels more like a proof of concept than anything else. That being said, Chained Soldier’s manga has a very effusive audience, and its praises don’t seem to entirely be about the boobs and butts, so I’ll wait patiently for the second season. I think it’s earned that much.
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Delicious in Dungeon
This is the one I’m having the hardest time writing about because it so confidently and so completely speaks for itself that anything I could add would feel like scattering sawdust at the beach. Dungeon Meshi (I refuse to call it by its official English title) is a widely beloved manga among those who’ve read it, and for Studio Trigger to do an honest-to-goodness manga adaptation for the first time might as well be front page news among anime fans. 
The story follows Laios, the deeply weird human hero, as he delves back into a bizarre and mysterious dungeon to rescue his sister Falin from the belly of a dragon, along with his misfit party: The neurotic half-elven mage Marcille, the temperamental halfling rogue Chilchuck, and the dwarven warrior-slash-chef Senshi. The party is frequently low on supplies, so to survive the trip they’ll need to subsist on the most abundant resource in the dungeon: Monsters. Senshi’s aptitude in the kitchen helps ensure that everything is edible and sufficiently tasty, regardless of how nasty the monster it came from may have been. With monster obstructions out of the way and their bellies filled, our party delves deeper into the dungeon as the mysteries deepen in kind.
I love the character dynamics in this so goddamn much. Marcille and Chilchuck are frequently put off by the dubious monster food presented to them, but their consternation is worsened by the fact that Laios’ fascination with the monsters it came from annoys the shit out of them. I referred to him as “deeply weird,” but that doesn’t begin to describe his absolute galaxy brain, and I mean it as a term of endearment. Laios is deeply knowledgeable and curious about the fauna in the dungeon, and not just how they taste: He is vocally curious about how certain monster attacks may feel, sings along with siren songs, and even keeps a hardcover bestiary inside his breastplate. He’s one of those people you turn to if you have a question on a hyperspecific subject, but you have to be careful how you ask it or else you’re trapped for the next two hours. And I love him for it.
Even putting the comedy aside, there is a fascinating human element at play in Dungeon Meshi, and I can tell that that surface has barely even been scratched yet. Marcille is just as dogged in her pursuit of saving Falin as Laios is, maybe even moreso (remember what I keep saying about LGBT representation this season?). Chilchuck continues to convince himself that he’s only in the job for his own personal gain, but you can see that mask slipping. And I still wanna know what Senshi’s deal is. Even with the five major players I listed, there’s an increasingly deep roster surrounding them—showcasing a broad spectrum of races and ethnicities, both real and fantastical—each with their own histories and motivations, and I cannot wait to see how they play out and interact with one another. There seem to be much deeper themes at play here as well as we learn more about perceptions and grudges between differing races, oppositional magics, clashing ideologies, and the monetary incentives that drive both the dungeon’s exploration and its very existence. I’m here for it.
I’ve been holding off on reading the manga until the season is up in June (though I could crack any day), but I know a loving adaptation when I see one. Not that Trigger ever slacks off in the animation department, but they absolutely brought their A-game here. Everyone looks bouncy and cartoony in the way only Trigger can pull off while still looking as close as possible to Ryoko Kui’s source material (as far as I can tell). As with Frieren, the action sequences aren’t frequent, nor are they entirely what the show is about, but they look incredible every single time. And the food, of course, looks incredible, no matter how weird. This is practically a cooking anime and a fantasy dungeon anime at the same time, and both aspects are visually on point at all times.
I’m obviously speaking from my own bubble as one of the six people who still use Tumblr in 2024, but I rarely see new anime make a splash like this on social media every single week, and the ones that I do are usually the monster shonen hits like Chainsaw Man or Jujutsu Kaisen. Dungeon Meshi deserves the exposure and success it’s attained, and I’m excited to see it continue. I’d easily slot this right up there with Bravern as one of the best new anime of the season.
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A Sign of Affection
I’ve seen a hell of a lot of shonen slice-of-life romances in the past year and change, so a nice fluffy shoujo like this was an excellent palate cleanser. There were a hell of a lot of Big Action Setpieces and panicky teens and grim dungeon crawlers this season, and at the end of the week I wanted to unwind with a bunch of pretty twenty-somethings falling in love with each other.
The show centers on Yuki, a young woman living with congenital hearing loss, making do at a public college after growing up at a school for the deaf. Though she’s able to get by with LINE messages and lip reading, she’s unprepared when a foreigner asks for help, but she’s saved by a handsome and mysterious young man named Itsuomi. He’s able to help out, and takes an interest in her when he realizes his fellow undergrad is deaf, and Yuki takes an interest in kind because he’s really goddamn hot. It turns out that he’s a polyglot and an avid world-traveler, but sign language is not in his purview. This mutual interest sparks the concern of her childhood friend, Oushi, one of the few people in her life who already use sign language, who wants to be sure that nothing untoward is happening. And it isn’t, because this is just a really lovely, low-stakes romance story.
This is pure, unfiltered shoujo at its best. Yuki’s internal monologue is peppered with flowery prose, and everything and everyone looks soft and beautiful. Fashionable, doe-eyed women and pillowy-lipped ikemen abound (seriously, holy shit, the lips on these boys) as the scope widens and the main love interests’ friends explore their own possible love stories. Itsuomi is very much of the “mysterious boy” archetype you’ll find in romance stories in this demographic, but he’s not hiding any sort of dark past like you’d typically expect; he’s just an interesting guy who keeps his personal life close to the vest. He’s a self-appointed world citizen who loves learning about how people of all cultures live their lives, and in Yuki he sees someone within his home turf who happens to live in her own world entirely. And it’s easy to see his forward behavior with Yuki as infantilizing at first (Oushi sure does, and I’ll get back to him in a second), but as they grow closer Itsuomi quickly becomes much more considerate of her boundaries and learns to accommodate her as he studies sign language and gestures that help ensure her comfort. This is a story about Yuki’s horizons broadening just as much as it is about Itsuomi wanting to be let into Yuki’s narrow world, and that sort of synergy makes for some exceptional romance.
A Sign of Affection deserves some credit for refusing to shy away from Yuki’s disability and making a point of depicting her world as one that does little to accommodate her. Very few people in her daily life ever bothered to learn sign language, she relies on a friend to take notes during lectures, and work is hard to come by. It’s an honest depiction that makes an effort not to be exploitative, which is a breath of fresh air. Not only that, but there’s some interesting meta-commentary in there: The only major conflict in the story stems from Oushi’s jealousy, and his reservations about Itsuomi possibly “taking advantage of” Yuki almost feel like he believes that he’s the only one who knows what’s best for her just because he’s done the bare minimum to accommodate her. He thinks he’s coming from a good place, but he winds up accidentally infantilizing her in exactly the way he thinks Itsuomi might. That’s a particularly interesting bit of irony!
I’ve seen enough shonen-oriented romcoms where an unassuming Regular Guy gets flustered as a way-too-casual girl pushes his buttons (hell, I’ve already reviewed two of those this season), so it’s nice to see the formula flipped for a shoujo as Yuki and her best friend Rin blush and squee over Itsuomi and his coworker Kyouya, respectively. A Sign of Affection isn’t afraid to get a little silly with it, either; plenty of these moments are punctuated by characters’ faces going low-detail or full chibi, and they are cute as shit every single time.
This one was just cozy as hell. If you’re into this sort of thing, swaddle yourself in it and bask.
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Solo Leveling
I let this one collect dust after the third episode and didn’t pick it back up until the season was almost up, and honestly, I was kinda dreading it: The trailers didn’t look too promising, the show was slow to start, and it looked like yet another derivative JRPG-style dungeon crawler that managed to get popular. Turns out, nah, this show actually kinda fucks and the web novel series and webtoon it’s based on are popular for a reason. The story is nothing special, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a perfectly serviceable turn-your-brain-off action spectacle with a bit more lying beneath the surface.
In a modern-day South Korea where portals to mysterious dungeons open up and threaten the populace, those who can brave the dungeons, known as hunters, are an invaluable human resource. Once someone is assigned a grade as a hunter, they have that grade for life, barring some rare occurrences. Sung Jinwoo is at the lowest rung on that ladder as an E-rank, incapable of improvement, assigned the epithet “the weakest hunter of all mankind.” He mostly shows up to portal raids as a warm body to fill a quota, and one such job goes haywire as most of the raid party, Jinwoo included, is brutally slaughtered in an arcane secondary dungeon within a portal. He somehow wakes up in a hospital, unharmed, and able to access a digital menu before his eyes that exhorts him to do the One Punch Man workout every day, lest he incur punishment. He gets hilariously chadly in the span of a few days in the hospital, including an inexplicable haircut, and finds access to dungeons only he can enter and levels up within this new system.
This one gets off to a slow start and may have benefited from a longer premiere like Oshi no Ko or Frieren, but once the table is fully set, Solo Leveling really starts to cook. Jinwoo’s titular leveling process is a blast from one fight to the next, and as he moves to work in the dungeons that other hunters can access, it turns out he’s been training with the weights on. He’s suddenly fighting way above his pay grade, and after staving off attacks from hunters taking advantage of portals for nefarious ends, he is recruited by an ambitious corporate scion to make some real coin and establish an independent association of hunters.
While it can feel like there’s a whole bunch of table-setting between portal sequences, it’s some smart worldbuilding on Solo Leveling’s end to establish how portal hunting became a central pillar of this society, and doubly so how political and capitalist interests can leave a wide berth for corruption and bad actors. If there’s money to be made in hunting, of course people will find ways to make even more at the expense of others, both at the corporate and individual levels. There’s a lot of talk in there about “survival of the fittest” and “natural selection” and that… makes me nervous.
Those are terms that can be used to justify immoral actions in the name of money, sure, but Jinwoo also uses them to justify his own process. To what end is he constantly improving himself? Sure, he's doing what he can to provide for his younger sister and their ailing mother, but I see less and less humanity in him as this goes on. There are constant hints at something far more sinister at play than just a dude getting stronger for himself, not the least of which being “the system,” the UI that implores him to keep taking on these “quests.” Something, or someone, seems to be guiding him. Whenever another hunter turns on Jinwoo, of course his self-defense instincts kick in, but system pop-ups instruct him to defeat X number of hostiles like it’s a normal video game scenario. There’s something eerily depersonalized about these encounters, despite them being full-on mortal combat, that gives me serious Ender’s Game vibes. Consider me intrigued.
I’d heard that the Solo Leveling manhwa’s main draw was its visuals, and though I had my doubts early on, I'm sold now. This is a pretty solid presentation! Hiroyuki Sawano turned in yet another banger soundtrack to punctuate all the action setpieces, helping to stitch together a fairly complete tapestry. Said setpieces are exhilarating and almost impressively bloody, and while the animation is nothing impressive in the day-to-day, it goes absolutely batshit when the gloves come off. Movement is inhumanly fluid and the visuals can go into the same loose, psychedelic territories we’ve seen in the likes of Mob Psycho and the second season of Jujutsu Kaisen. If this is the new meta for shonen action, I’m not complaining.
By all rights, this is a pretty decent show, but if I’m being honest, this one just hasn’t stuck with me much. And that’s fine! Sometimes I just wanna see some nutty action stuff and move on with my day. Solo Leveling hits that spot perfectly, and I'll be right back there when it returns for its next season.
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‘Tis Time for “Torture,” Princess
I was surprised to learn that the gag manga this is based on, with such a seemingly simple premise, has been running for well over 200 chapters and counting. As the anime progressed, I was far more pleasantly surprised to learn that it actually works.
In a standard anime fantasy world where the forces of good are fighting the demonic Hellhorde, an unnamed warrior princess and her talking enchanted sword are taken prisoner and subjected to torture as they’re squeezed for intel. Said “torture,” as the title’s scare quotes would suggest, is mildly unconventional, as the demon baddie inquisitor, aptly named Torture Tortura, attempts to ply the princess by presenting her with tantalizingly delicious-looking food that she can only partake in if she coughs up some info. Naturally, the princess caves every single time, but her intel is often inane and useless, so the “torture” continues. It’s not all food, though: The princess is soon held out of arm’s reach of adorable baby animals by a gyaru beastgirl, pampered into submission by a spa-loving giantess, and is faced with a tsundere vampire faildaughter, who… tries. 
And you’d think that would be it; the joke wears thin and you move onto something else. Before you realize it, though, something’s changed: The princess and her captors are quickly becoming friends. The premise almost feels perfunctory: These inquisitors are actual people just doing their jobs, and whatever happens after the princess’ myriad confessions is fair game. There’s no malice or animosity, even during the “torture” sessions themselves: Everyone will have a blast and grow closer as friends, and then the princess will voluntarily go back to her bedless cell. It’s like Sam and Ralph after they clock out, except they’re almost always off the clock. Everyone is genuinely looking out for each other in all directions, and the only thing that keeps the torture going is the need for a status quo to return to, even as it grows more elastic. If anything, Time for "Torture" is a good example of committing to the bit without having to necessarily rely on it.
The real irony in all of this is that it becomes increasingly apparent that the princess is having her needs met in captivity far better than she ever did back home. In her proud proclamations about how she’ll never cave to the temptations before her (shortly before she does just that), the princess often talks about her upbringing and her time as the head of an imperial legion, but these stories often betray her lack of friendship or any of the little things that make life worth living. Her life as royalty was one of isolation and deprivation, to the point where she finds more freedom and fulfillment as a prisoner. She truly lives in a society.
Hellholm, on the other hand, has a surprisingly healthy approach to things like work-life balance, food, and leisure, and its most valuable prisoner is no exception. The Hell-Lord himself is a surprising exemplar of this; for as much as he looks and talks like your standard terrifying JRPG demon king, he’s a surprisingly good dude! He looks after his family, employees, and even the captive princess as if they are all one and the same; he exhibits strong principles and an aversion to conflict, sees to his employees' needs and wants alike, and is a supportive, loving father to his unbelievably precious little daughter (who also serves as a “torturer,” to the princess’ delight). He’s also a big time anime dork, and even bonds with a knight attempting to rescue the princess over their shared otakudom before sending him off peacefully. As “villains” go, he’s top tier.
Time for "Torture" is nothing groundbreaking by any stretch, but it’s a cute, silly time and it plays with anime fantasy tropes in the same way a six-month-old German shepherd “plays” with a cheap stuffed toy. How long the premise holds up is entirely up to you, but I had a lot of fun with it. I have no idea how this ended up being one of the better shows this season, but I guess it just scratched the right itch for me.
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What do you say about 2 most despised characters in the fandom: Andre the Ice Cream Man and Thomas’s self-insert?
Are they the most despised characters? I feel like that honor goes to more prevalent characters like Gabriel, Lila, or André Bourgeois, but I could be wrong. Either way, my thoughts on the two you asked about are as follows:
Andre the Ice Cream Man
Andre reminds me of the weeping angels from Dr. Who. Great - or in this case fine - initial concept, but the more they show up, the less sense they make because the rules keep changing.
If we go by his initial appearance, then he's just some guy who can magically sense who you're supposed to be with and who gives you ice cream to point you to them. That's a cute concept for a rom-com. I can even accept him getting akumatized when he first shows up because, if you're a magical match maker who delights in love, then it makes sense that you'd be sad to see someone giving up on love even if it's just a teenager being dramatic. Those feelings are still quite real plus this show is aimed at little kids. They're going to view Marinette's heartbreak more seriously than an adult audience.
Unfortunately, every subsequent appearance ruins the initial setup by changing Andre's rules, turning him into a pretty obnoxious character. If he can sense perfect matches, then why does Marichat set him off? Shouldn't he be able to sense that this is a perfect match? And why didn't Adrigami set him off in the season three final? They got ice cream without him throwing a fit while Marichat was refused service once and caused an akumatization another time! That makes no sense. Does this man sense true matches or just support whatever couple comes to see him? And what happened to the whole, "anyone who eats his ice cream together stays together forever" thing? Consistency matters, people! Pick a lane! Obnoxious shipper who can't take a hint or true magical match maker. Which is he?
Based on his initial appearance and rules, Andre should be the only person in Paris who knows the truth of the square right from the start. If they'd done that, then he could have been a fun character that was used to subtly push the square together and give them an odd feeling of hope in dark moments where their love is wavering. After all, who doesn't love ice cream when nursing a broken heart? It could have been a cute running gag where Andre shows up with ice cream every time a part of the square is moping. Instead we get whatever nonsense canon is doing with him because even the super minor characters suffer from how wildly inconsistent canon is.
I'll end the Andre discussion by saying that I'm not sure if I'll ever forgive the writers for having Andre be the one to out Marinette's crush on Adrien. Five seasons of waiting and that's it? That's the big reveal? You are not getting me hyped for the actual big reveal, guys. Between this and the what-if episodes always making someone look terrible, my feelings about the eventual square reveal are basically just low-key dread. Thank goodness there are so many solid reveals in the fandom to give me the satisfaction I crave!
Thomas’s self-insert
Confession time, I didn't know that this was a self-insert when I watched this episode. I thought that Thomas' character was just a gag about how most people don't really know what directors do because that is certainly a thing. The fine details of individual roles in the entertainment industry are kind of nebulous to industry outsiders. We can see this in the fact that people often attribute way too much power to individuals and ignore how many people are involved in making movies and TV shows.
One of my favorite stories about this is the fact that a Star Trek writer had his episode win a Hugo only for him to completely disavow the episode because they changed his script so much after he turned it in. This is not a unique story, btw. Stuff like this happens all the time. It's why I've mentioned that I use "writers" as a bit of a catch-all term for "anyone who effects the story telling" for simplicity's sake. Though I will note that, outside of season one, every season of Miraculous was written by a team. Members of that team are then credited as directors, so these guys have a lot more powers than the guy who won the Hugo. The guy who won the Hugo won it because Star Trek was apparently being run like Miraculous was in season one when the show was written by a bunch of different writers who just sold scripts for individual episode and those scripts then got worked into a final version by a smaller core team. Film is a complicated industry like that.
Anyway, back to the character question!
I now know that this was a self-inset, but it doesn't really change my initial feelings about the episode. All of the problems come from Marinette's writing, not Thomas' self-insert character. I'm actually not sure why his character gets so much hate. As far as bad self-inserts go, it was pretty tame. I'm not sure if I'd even call it bad. Thomas wasn't painted as a god or anything like that. He was the butt of a running joke that I didn't find very funny, but I do think that it indicates a level of humility to let your self-insert be seen as less than perfect. He doesn't even take credit for being both a writer and a director:
Jagged: Ladybug is one of my best buds! I can't wait to see her movie! Thomas: Well I'm— I'm the director, so actually it's more my movie, so to speak. Jagged: Oh, so you're the one who created the story? Thomas: Well, technically the screen writers wrote the story, inspired by Ladybug's exploits. Jagged: Oh, ok. So you did all the drawings? Thomas: No, no. The animators do all the drawings. Jagged: So what do you do then? Thomas: Well I—
Now that I know that this character is a self-insert, also I find this moment at the end a lot more cute:
Thomas:(after seeing the conversation) You know what. Take my seat and enjoy the movie. I've seen it ten times or more. What matters the most for the movie is to be seen by people who really want to see it right? Marinette: (stutters) But... I-I... Uh... But... Thomas: Sorry, I guess you don't know who I am either Marinette: Of course do. You're Thomas Astruc the movie director! (hugs him) Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Thomas: She recognized me. Somebody actually recognized me! (wipes away tears) This is the best day of my life! 
I may not like major elements of this dude's show, but I really don't see this as an ego trip. I see it as a nice moment between creator and creation, possibly because I got to view the episode without any biases when I first watched it. I'm not sure if knowing the full story would have changed my read, though, because I really do think that it's fine for writers and directors to put themselves in minor roles in their creation. You have to come up with so many characters for a story like this, why not let a random akuma be based on you?
To give you a little perspective, the head writers of the show RWBY both voice characters in the show. Once again, I have no problem with that, especially since RWBY didn't have the massive budget you need in order to hire a bunch of voice actors. The thing that I do judge them for is the fact that both of their characters get unnecessary romance plots with major characters. One of the writer's characters - a guy named Jaune - even gets an obnoxious amount of screen time to the point where he feels like more of a main character than some of the actual main characters.
This whole video analyzing that show is excellent and may be worth a watch even if you've never watched RWBY because it plays with some of the same general genres as Miraculous and suffers from some similar writing problems, but I'll give you two specific time links to parts that talk about the self-insert problem so that you can see what I mean if you'd like a little more context:
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The RWBY issue is the kind of setup where finding out that it's an author self-insert makes me uncomfortable. These two characters have some pretty clear writing problems, so learning that they're also self-inserts? Not a great look. It makes it feel like the writers were prioritizing their self-insert characters over telling a good story. That's not what we got in Miraculous so Thomas' character seriously doesn't phase me. I doubt it would phase most salters if the overall show was actually good.
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natalyarose · 5 months
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My Journey With Ayanamsa
It feels fitting that my first astrological post be a write up on one of my most profound astrological journeys. I started studying astrology avidly when I was in my teens, and soon discovered the magic of Vedic Astrology & Nakshatras .
Learning of the Nakshatras and the beauty of what they have to offer opened up a world of knowledge and patterns that feel almost criminal to be aware of. I mean, no amount of knowledge or spirituality can be a 'cheat code' to bypass enduring and navigating Earthly life, but it just shocks me the pure transparency of the cosmic patterns found applying Vedic astrology. I mean, Tropical astrology without Nakshatras was already magical to explore, but Nakshatras took the cake haha.
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I noticed very early on that Lahiri Ayanamsa didn't seem accurate, but at the time I didn't know about Ayanamsa and was driving myself utterly mad trying to understand why not only my own, but other charts I'd observed seemed to off by at least a couple of degrees.
I am someone who is born at the end of a Nakshatra. The more I delved into Nakshatras, the more it became clear that somehow, I belonged to the latter Lunar Mansion to the one that showed up in many calculations.
Everything about me (and others who had the same dilemma), down to my personality, upbringing, mannerisms, art, outfit choices and even my physical appearance aligned with the prospect of calculations being altered at least a couple of degrees.
A lot of people told me that maybe some people are just anomalies, I even started theorising that maybe some peoples' spirits didn't inhabit their body until a couple of hours after birth (lol), but that was me clutching at straws- also, the ascendant would change too much if were the case & it were a birth time issue.
Eventually I discovered Ayanamsa, and I realised, I wasn't crazy!
I learnt that Lahiri Ayanamsa was the most commonly used Nakshatra only because it was the one selected by the Indian government. They needed one consistent, passable Ayanamsa to settle confusions & standardize dates for various celebrations.
The Ayanamsa was created by a Mathematician with little knowledge of astrology. There was just an urgent need to pick at least one definitive calculation irrespective of whether it was necessarily the most accurate. I mean, I'm sure they would've wanted it to be accurate too, but that wasn't the main goal.
I am quoting renowned Vedic astrologer, Ernst Wilhelm on this- but even NC Lahiri- the creator of Lahiri later admitted his own calculation was flawed, and noted that if he could go back in time he would have altered the Ayanamsa by a few degrees.
Before Lahiri Ayanamsa, the most commonly followed Ayanamsa were Revati based ayanamsas (True Revati, Usha/Shashi, Hipparchus, Sassanian).
Ernst Wilhelm devoted extensive time, observation, testing and intuitive understanding to cleverly creating his own Ayanamsa which ever since I discovered it, makes a world of sense to me. So many things in both my own chart & others' just clicked. There were a lot of inconsistencies I used to explain away by being like 'hmm it must be their d9' or 'huh, I guess their other placements are just stronger than that one'. I found that a lot of these things that didn't quite make sense were naturally rectified by using Ernst's Ayanamsa.
Before finding Ernst Wilhelm's Dhruva Galactic Center (I can thank @makingspiritualityreal for my stumbling across it on tumblr, thankyou for sharing your knowledge lovely!! ♡), I used Raman Ayanamsa. I wasn't certain it was the absolute best one, but it did seem to rectify a lot of the issues I was coming across- however there were many instances where I would for example; see and feel the influence of a transit a little bit before it occurred even using Raman calculations. So, I did suspect the degrees should be a little further forward, and Dhruva Galactic Center perfectly aligns with that.
The intuitive line of thought behind Wilhelm's Ayanamsa is also awesome! The concept that the 'correct' Ayanamsa would be based on the Galactic Center- the heart of our galaxy- which lies in the very middle of Mula, 'the root' 'the truth'... it just makes too much sense!
Since Ernst Wilhelm's Ayanamsa is only accessible through his Kala astrology software, I've been using Usha/Shashi Ayanamsa on Astroseek since it is ever so slightly different, but almost the same in value to Dhruva Galactic Center. EDIT: @bdandelion informed me that there actually is an Astroseek Ayanamsa called 'Galactic Center Mid-Mula' that is essentially the same as Ernst Wilhelm's Ayanamsa! I'm not sure how I missed this, I think I just got confused haha, but how exciting!!
I am and always will keep an open mind when it comes to Ayanamsa and all astrological things; if I closed off my perception because one guy said one thing, I would not know even half of the things I know, but for now, that is my story/journey with Ayanamsa :)
I'm so grateful to know what I know, because I spent a good year of my life (when I should've been focusing in school among other things, lol) frantically trying to understand why the astrology I loved didn't seem to make mathematical sense, why some people and placements weren't fitting. To me, this has been a big test of my faith in my own intuition. I knew something was up, and I did think I was going mad for a while, but I followed that trail and found a wealth of knowledge I am blessed to have.
To be clear, I have no desire to force other people to follow the same calculation- I understand it would also be jarring for people. It would shift quite a lot of things for some people and all, but for what it's worth, I think part of being a good astrologer is keeping that open mind and heart to potential new information. Like with science- keep an open mind, entertain every idea, and don't fully latch onto something until you have sufficient reason to believe it!
Peace and love my guys! ♡
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genericpuff · 7 months
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Hey puff you have a day job right? How do you keep the motivation/discipline to create comics regularly and be an active blogger?
I've mentioned this a few times before and generally try to be as transparent as possible as I can when it comes to my real life circumstances and how they affect - and allow - my comic production schedule, because when it comes right down to it, I'm in a very privileged position that allows me certain luxuries that other comic creators simply don't have. And I don't really like the idea of someone seeing what I do and like... thinking that's a bar they have to meet because it often comes with a complete misinterpretation of what circumstances I'm in that may vary extremely from their own. Y'all are seeing a tip of a very large iceberg, y'know?
I do have a day job, I work as a tattoo artist, however my schedule is very much my own to control and while that comes with a lot of pressure to find my own work, it also allows for me to have flexibility with my other projects. That said, I'm only able to be that flexible because when I'm making money, I'm making really decent money (and with far less hours than I would need to make my living if I was working in retail still) and when I'm not, I've got a partner who makes a more consistent living that may have a much smaller hourly than what I get hourly for tattooing, but is still a decent hourly compared to minimum wage that he's able to handle bills while I get back on my feet (and there have been tons of times where our situations have been reversed, where I've been making good money and he's been needing extra help; it's honestly kind of some cosmic prank, the two of us can never seem to be doing financially well at the same time lmao)
Right now, we're just starting to come out of a slow winter season, so I've had more time than ever to sink into my personal projects. It does get stressful at times having such inconsistent payouts through the ebbs and flows of tattooing, but I try to be at peace with those slow seasons because it allows me to work on my passion projects. Especially when I've got not one, not two, but three separate tattoo expos (so far) to do this summer, which is gonna be (hopefully) three separate 30 hour weekends of straight tattooing haha And while I say hopefully (because yay good money and good publicity!) it's also gonna be extremely stressful and exhausting so I'm trying not to take the slower season for granted, because I know I'll be wishing for it again when I'm in the midst of it. And that's not even including all the other events I have booked this year that are purely for vendoring (so unrelated to tattooing) that are also gonna be crazy.
That said, the past couple years have felt particularly hard, but I know it's because we're unfortunately in the midst of a massive economic recession that has seen people spending less on luxury things - and that includes tattoos. But my comics and other personal projects give me a great outlet for my ideas and thoughts, and while projects like Rekindled are unfortunately not something I feel comfortable monetizing, they are ultimately projects that bring me a lot of joy and I think that's the best I can ask for nowadays while I wait in the hopes that things get better soon in the real world.
As for getting that motivation/discipline, I don't really have one solid answer. The reality is just that I've been doing this for a long, long time, so not drawing comics feels like not doing any other established good habit. What you may feel wondering how I manage to work so long on a single comic project with such hefty updates is undoubtedly pretty close to what I feel wondering how the fuck people manage to go to the gym LOL It's taken a lot of routine building and repetition and it's as natural as breathing to me at this point, I just feel gross when I've gone a day without drawing comics in some form. That routine has helped me get better and faster at creating as well. When I started my first long-form comic series, I started out just drawing a page a day - often taking 3-4 weeks to complete a chapter - and by the time it was done 7 years later, I was putting out a chapter a week. And then that turned into 60-90 panels of full color art a week... nah, I don't recommend anyone do that on their own like I did, I can't even do that anymore and looking back I'm in shock how I was able to pull that off, and not in an amazed "why can't I do that anymore, I used to be so awesome!" way, but more in a "oh god why did I do that to myself, no wonder I'm burnt out" way.
And honestly that's kind of the reality of it, while I'm putting out consistent updates of Rekindled that are in full color and are - in my opinion - some of the best work I've put out in the last few years, I'm also struggling to rebuild habits with my original project because I've simply fallen out of practice. I'm one person responsible for all the work I've put out, and yet when it comes to looking at the projects I still have sitting on the backburner, I still feel a sort of internalized version of Person A looking at Person B and asking "how the hell do you do it???" just like you're asking me now lol I'm working on it though and trying to get back to it little by little, day by day. On rare occasions I actually get something productive done and make progress LOL
That said, none of it has come without consequences. I've spent the majority of my artistic journey working on the same project which I feel has severely stunted my outreach and set me back in my growth; after all, we only ever see and judge the merit of webcomic projects based on the 1% of people who got lucky and achieved some semblance of fame and recognition out of it, you never see the people who have spent years still picking away at the same project from the bottom with little to show for it besides the work that's going unseen. I've also already got way more back and hip pain than one should have by their late 20's and that's definitely a consequence of spending so many hours every single day working on comics. As much as I've built some great habits that have made my comics and art better, I've also ended up with some very bad ones that a lot of people don't see because all they see is the results from the good ones. So that's something that I hope I can at least warn people about, even as a reminder to stand up and stretch every now and then and get their proper amount of sleep LMAO
And then when it comes to the blogging... I'm an AuDHD person with a lot to say and I can type at 137/wpm. So that's all there is to that ♡( ◡‿◡ )
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