#i've done the whole thing a few times now and might be able to help if you get stuck somewhere along the way

[misctf]

Hey I've always been a pudgy and geeky type of guy and now at 50 I wish I had done things different. Could you change reality so I've always been a bear or daddy or age regress me so I'm a jock or himbo?

Are you sure you want this? I mean, I appreciate where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But are you sure? There’re risks and.... Okay I’ll spare you the details. You seem pretty set on this.

Cracks fingers.

Where to start... 50 years old, a tad pudgy, and I can tell that Star Wars shirt you’re wearing hasn’t been washed in a while. Not to worry!

Snaps fingers. The cold air now caressing your naked body.

Much better! Now I can see what I’m working with. Stay still please.

You feel my hands run along your pudgy, hairy gut. You wince as I give it a squeeze. You watch as I saunter behind you and yelp when I tug at the back hair that wraps up and around your shoulders. And as my hand runs along the thinning hair on your head, you gasp as a pressure emanates from within your brain.

Ah...Interesting... I can see it. Who you want to be... Okay, okay. This is gonna be tough, but just take a deep breath. And before I begin, you should know I set my clients up for success, which means... So... right... You’re full steam ahead. Sounds good!

You wince when I firmly grab your flabby chest and start massaging. A groan escapes your lips and you watch as the fat melts from your chest, leaving it flat. But with another squeeze, you watch as my hands begin to fill again. This time with your new muscle tit flesh. Bigger and bigger, until my hands can’t contain them. Firm and bounceable. Simultaneously, your skin heats up as your chest and back hair vanish, leaving you clean shaven. You watch as I give your nipples a squeeze and... the pleasure nearly knocks you off your feet. You moan as I pinch them between my fingers.

Like that? Yeah I can tell. I made them extra sensitive. Like so sensitive that the fabric of a shirt might make you cum. Oh don’t give me that look. Trust me, you’ll want to show off what I’m giving you. Okay... let’s...

My hands run along your abdomen and you feel like the wind is knocked out of you. The pudgy gut you sported before is starting to melt. Painful at first, but when you see the six pack you’re now sporting, you grin. But it’s short lived. You feel my hands firmly grip your ass. And this time, you moan as you feel your flabby ass firm up, filling with firm, bouncy fat and muscle. An ass that’ll always turn heads. And when I give your bubble butt a gentle slap, you moan loudly.

Yeah... what can I say? I want you to really enjoy your new body. Yeah... okay... I get you’re horny. Like hornier than you’ve ever been. But you’re turning out so well. We can’t stop now! Oh! Look at that! Your skin is starting to tan! See? We just need to get started and the rest follows. It’s like your body knows what its destined to become. But we’re missing something...

I run my hands up and down your arms, filling each of them with muscle. And then more. And then even more. They feel heavier to you. Bulging as if you’d just done curls for days. My hands don’t even come close to being able to wrap around them. And your shoulders... you’d never thought the whole ‘shoulders like boulders’ would ever apply to you. Now you’re a shining example.

Yeah, I know. Damn, dude. And I should ask... what’s your skin care routine? I jest, I jest. You’re 21, of course you have great skin! Haha you look so happy! Beats being 50, right? Oh! Before I forget...

You watch as I pull out a baseball cap and slap it on your head. Beneath it, you feel a burning sensation as your thinning hair grows in rapidly. And a few blond curls poke out from beneath your new hat.

So, what do you think? Of course, of course. I told you I’d help. And god, I gotta say you turned out hot. Now, I did tell you earlier that I set my clients up for success. And right now, you might have the body, but do you have the mindset? Okay, calm down... I did say there were risks, right? And I can’t let you ruin my work. Just stay still and...

You feel my hand on your head. And another around your growing cock.

Right... how does computer science fit into the new you? Or comic books? Okay, let’s get rid of that... and let’s move this here... and... Hey you good? You’re drooling all over yourself.

I give your cock a few tugs. A moan escapes your lips.

Phew! We’re still here. Right... okay let’s get rid of that... definitely get rid of this... Perfect! It’ll take a bit of space for all the knowledge to maintain this look. You’ll need most of your brain dedicated to workouts and diet. And since I doubt academics is your ticket to success, I might as well give you the knowledge to set up a successful OnlyFans account. Have any problems with that? I didn’t think so.  

I tug again on your cock, the pleasure somehow even more intense and your eyes roll back into your head.

Alright, but deep down you’re still that geeky guy. But with a body like this, it would be a waste not to have the right mindset for it. So, you get the idea? Shirtless, cocky, alpha douchebag. No more quiet geeky nerd. Yeah... look at that smirk. You’re getting it, now.

You flex in the mirror, the smirk never leaving your face. And then you turn back to me, gesturing toward your raging erection.

Well, what can I say. I.... Oh... Well, I mean if you insist. Might as well finish what I started. On my knees? Oh, okay... You want me to stop talking? Alright I.......

And as your cock meets the back of my throat and your moans fill the room, I couldn’t help but wonder if adding another douchey alpha bro to the world was worth it.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Am I Acting Weird?

Part II

I've been jogging on this treadmill for over an hour now. Cardio sucks, and I hate this old unventilated gym! When I joined the football team, I did it for the parties and cheerleaders! I just wanted to drink with the cool guys and get laid. I still do, but I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. I can't even remember the last girl I hooked up with!

I used to think it was weird that I was suddenly working out all the time. It was like my entire personality had changed overnight.

I know it's not weird now. Max, my younger brother, told me so. I have to keep working out until I become the quarterback of the football team. Then I have to bulk up and train even more, so I can become a professional footballer. That's my new goal in life, and I can't wait for my little bro to be able to brag about being related to a pro athlete.

Sure, I never really wanted to play football professionally. If it were up to me, I'd be out drinking with my buds, but it's not up to me.

That's not weird right?

I shake my head and slow my aching legs. Droplets of sweat run down my face as I work to control my breathing. My whole body is sore from the conditioning. It doesn't help that this is my third workout of the day. Between my morning weight session, afternoon field practice, and this, I am totally whipped.

I stagger over to grab my workout gear. My night isn't over. I still have to bulk my stomach up for tomorrow.

With a frustrated sigh, I stomp out of the gym and march directly into the diner next door. I nod to the greasy cook behind the counter. I've become a regular here, so he knows me pretty well.

"The usual?" he grunts with a toothy grin.

I nod and sink into a booth.

Max, my little brother, got tired of me eating at the house. Apparently, it took our father too long to cook my bulking meals. Max has me eat here after my workouts, and I completely agree. Max shouldn't have to share our dad with me. He deserved to have someone at home cooking whenever he wanted to eat.

"Four burgers, fries, and a soda," the cook snickers as he slaps the tray in front of me, "A growing boy needs extra protein."

I grimace and turn away from the chef. His breath alone is enough to make me lose my appetite, but I take a big bite and swallow. I won't gain mass if I'm not consuming mass, and I obviously need to get bigger.

I've broken out into a second sweat by the time I'm done. Forcing myself to up, I have to adjust to my bloated waist. You'd think I'd get used to a packed stomach, but I always feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

I let out a belch and carry the dirty dishes to the back. It always feels weird strolling into an employees-only area like this, but it's part of how I get my meals for free. You see, the cook let's is nice as long as I take care of two things.

The dishes are the first thing.

"Leave the dishes," I hear his husky voice behind me, "I never wash 'em anyways."

I drop the dishes and turn the sink off, holding my gut as it growls in pain. My belly might ache, but I've got one more thing to do.

The cook watches me expectantly. He licks his chapped lips, and grabs at the bulge under his apron, between his two trunks of legs. He's already fishing the thing out. I know what he wants, so I drop to the floor. This has become just another part of my daily routine.

It's how I thank the chef.

I don't know how this became a habit, because I absolutely do not enjoy it! The man is filthy, and a man! I'm not gay! I like women, but I have to eat a lot to bulk up and Max liked the idea of me eating for free. It's not weird!

I let him manhandle me a bit, gripping my head and pulling my hair. The cook gets off faster if he roughs me up a little. He usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's the longest few minutes of the day.

It's not sex. It's just a transaction!

"Oh, yeah!" he growls with his eyes squeezed shut, "Yeah, boy! Fuck!"

I whip my head off his hairy crotch and jump to my feet. I spit into a napkin and wipe my mouth quickly. I know from experience that I won't be able to get the taste of sweat and meat out of my mouth until I brush my teeth thoroughly at home.

My part is finally done here, so I just want to leave!

"Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning, jocky boy!" he laughs, but I've already stormed out, marching down the street to my house. I'm trying not to think about how I'll be seeing him in a few hours for breakfast.

"Hey dad," I mumble, stepping inside.

"Boy," he answers dismissively, not even looking up from his work. As usual, he's wearing his home uniform: a suit and white gloves. I have a similar outfit for when I'm hanging around the house, but dad gets a lot more use out of his now that I'm constantly bulking up. Max is really the only one who seems to dress casually around here anymore.

I guess that makes him the weird one.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to start up a conversation.

"What's it look like, boy?" he answers gruffly, "I'm cleaning up after Max and his guests. Now, either get your uniform on and help or get out of my way."

His attitude makes me cringe a bit. Dad and I used to be really tight. We used to bond over sports and craft beer, but he doesn't really care about anything besides Max anymore.

I don't think he's gone to any of my games for the last few months. He's always cooking or cleaning for Max. I wish I understood. We used to tease Max all the time together, but now he gets angry anytime I try and bond with him. Like, it's totally normal and right for Max to be his new favorite, but I wish we could still chat every now and then.

"Sorry," I mutter.

My father ignores me and heads off to the kitchen in a rush. He looks erratic, and I can tell he's just as exhausted as I am. He's made it a habit of working extra hours at the office everyday. It's so he can bring home the biggest paycheck he can earn every week, but I know is affecting his sleep.

"Where is Max?" I ask.

My dad frowns, tersely responding, "Max took his guests to a movie in my car. The house needs to be clean and snacks need to be ready for when Max gets back."

"Oh," I sigh, "Are his friends staying over again? I'd stay up with you and help serve them, but Max said I should be getting nine hours of sleep every night."

"Go to bed, boy. I'll handle it," he states firmly, putting the final touches on the silver platter.

With that, my father picks up the tray of assorted snacks and walks them out into the living room. There he takes his place by the door and stands in his usual position. It's where he normally waits to welcome Max home everyday. Father and I know that someone like Max shouldn't have to put their own coat away or take off their own shoes.

"Alright, dad, see you tomorrow."

He doesn't answer. He's already standing still as a statue and probably won't move until Max gets back. Hopefully, my little brother won't keep him up too late.

Sleep won't be hard for me to find. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I pass out as soon as I fall on my bed. The rest of the night is a deep and dreamless void, while my stomach processes all the food I ate.

When I wake up, I find dad like this...

"Dad? Dad!" I give his shoulder a nudge.

He jumps to life, jerking his eyes around the trashed living room.

"Did you fall asleep standing up?"

"Maybe," he answers with shock, "Max had me holding everyone's coats while they enjoyed some beer. They must have moved to the bed while I drifted off."

"Aren't they a little young for beer?"

"Max and his guests are welcome to my alcohol whenever they want it!" he snaps back at me.

"Geez, ok."

"You have a workout you need to get to, boy," he barks, "And I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to clean up this mess before work."

I stare at my father as he scrambles to clean up the living room once again. He looks even more exhausted and disheveled than last night. Hopefully, he would be able to clean everything up with enough time to shower and shave. I know that all of the household stuff is his responsibility, but sometimes it seems like too much.

With a shrug, I turn and step out of the door. My day is going to be the same miserable routine as the last. I'm not looking forward to any of it, but that's not weird. Like Max said, I'll just keep my head down, and power through.

[copper-16]

Chapter 8 has been posted - but before everyone goes to read, a little bit of an announcement on my end:

This is going to be my last longer Mapi/Ingrid story, and probably the end of me being super active/posting on ao3 and tumblr. I might write the occasional story here and there, but writing is not bringing me the same joy it once was and I want to dedicate my time to other things. I’ll still be around reading on ao3 and somewhat on Tumblr, but I just won’t be posting a whole ton on either. I’ve been so incredibly lucky to get to know all of you guys on here, and to receive so much love for my work. It means the absolute world to me - and thank you all so much for welcoming me into this little community so wonderfully! I hope the stories I wrote were able to bring just a little bit of happiness when you guys needed it (even if I constantly left everyone on cliffhangers - I truly am sorry about that).

The rest of this is long, and you don't have to read it if you don't want to, you can just go ahead to the story now if you would like. I'm not known for my ability to keep concise, that is for certain. If brevity is the soul of wit - perhaps we know why my stories aren't very funny!

I’ve especially enjoyed joining tumblr and really finding a little community here. Getting to interact with so many people, both those who read my works and those who don’t, has been such a joy for me. I love getting to hear when people like the things I've written, even if it touches them in a small way. I love getting to interact with so many brilliant minds and am forever in awe of how much amazing talent there is in this little corner of the internet! I've made some incredible friends from getting to be on here, and it makes me so happy to have a little community of people I love. Thank you guys for letting me have space here even if I don’t write reader works or know how this app works most of the time.

I started writing seriously in September 2022 and I can't tell you how much joy it has brought me in the last two years. As someone who doesn't enjoy the college degree they are currently getting, this was such a fun creative outlet for me. It was so cool to have this blank canvas to work with, to weave things together, especially as I began to write longer stories. Writing was a place to destress for me and interact with other people who loved football as I was coming to love it. Every single kudos, comment, and bookmark meant so much to me. Even when it was something silly like someone dubbing the 'Copper Monologue,' it made me feel so seen. Someone cared enough to read enough of my works to pick out the fact that I do that? Absolutely mind blowing to me. It's crazy to hear that people cared about the silly little stories I wrote. When someone told me that I was one of the things to help inspire them to write their own stuff - I think I properly sobbed. It meant more to me than anything has in this entire world, and it still does! Writing has helped me to process, it's helped me to grow, it's helped me learn to identify my emotions and struggles and think through my own thought processes. I hope that maybe for someone out there, it could help them do that as well. It's a little strange for me not to want to do that anymore. Writing this last story solidified to me that for the most part it was time to be done, and HDITA was more of a goodbye than anything else. But even with that, it feels strange not to be thinking of my next idea, thinking of how I am going to create characters and relationships and plot lines.

I think for me right now, I'm just excited to be myself. Maybe this vessel of writing was what I needed to get myself through the last two years. I wrote la princesa when I was at my absolute worst in life, and as I've grown and matured as a person, I like to think that my writing has. I no longer find myself in a place where it fills a huge void in my own life that I once needed.

I've grown a lot as a writer these few years (those who read my earlier works will understand), and I'm excited to one day come back to it, maybe in a different sphere. I love the idea now of writing a real book. It always terrified me before - I didn't know where I would start or if I would be horrible at it. But you all have given me the confidence that maybe at least one person would like it, and maybe that's enough of a reason to try. So thank you all for holding my hand and encouraging me. I hope that if nothing else, everyone remembers that a little bit of kindness on here or ao3 or anywhere on the internet costs nothing, and yet can go a long way.

It did for me.

But enough of my sappy rambling, please enjoy this last chapter of mine. I hope it brings you as much joy as it brought me when I was writing it. Love you all so so much!

Chapter 8 of How Do I Trust Again?

[semisolidmind]

i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-

what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.

Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?

love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate

ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.

not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.

you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.

they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...

...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?

the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.

they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.

wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.

she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.

besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.

she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.

---

reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.

macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.

he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.

'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.

while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).

macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.

macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.

reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.

---

macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.

with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.

the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.

of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.

but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.

he just feels so...peaceful, with her.

the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.

and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.

---

sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.

during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.

he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.

macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.

macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.

the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.

this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.

and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.

…she let the monkey king in.

she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.

but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.

now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.

but she tries anyways.

“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”

macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.

“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.

“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."

reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...

she doesn’t have a choice.

reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.

with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.

he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.

---

reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.

reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.

she finds nothing.

"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.

reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—

"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.

"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"

reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.

she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.

"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."

---

wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).

reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.

she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.

[astradyke]

hey so I've been a casual Dan & Phil fan for years but never really a part of the fandom. Recently started scrolling thru the tag and like...did I miss something? Have they actually said for real for real that they dated? Like I'm queer and tbh 2 gay guys living together for that long have to at least done *something* but I'm not an rpf person (no shade) but I do wanna be up to date on the Dan and Phil facts (phacts?) Obviously they're some kinda soulmates but tbh I know some queerplatonic soulmates who aren't *together* so idk if that's them or not. Am I missing receipts or is their relationship presumed given their whole situationship? Genuinely asking and no shade to your shipping intended.

hiya! i'll try to be succinct here but i might totally miss some things as a heads up :P

In Basically I'm Gay on the Daniel Howell channel, the same monologue that led to the description of them as soulmates also included the statement: "And that was when, through the magic of the Internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends, but it was more than just romantic [...] The relationship we formed, at that point, was something that I needed in my life." Despite "relationship" being a neutral, versatile term, the preceding sentence confirms they've been in an explicitly romantic relationship. along with that explicit confirmation, we also know from several other relics from 2009-2011 in particular that the two were at the very least actively flirting (I can retrieve a few formsprings for you that point to this if u want just lmk!). Additionally, in 2010, Phil made a privated video addressed to Dan that explicitly confirms a romantic relationship; this video was unprivated via a YouTube glitch in September 2011 and circulated heavily in late 2012. it was a serious incident that outed them and thus people don't talk much about it. I've never seen it in full-- it's pretty much off the Internet entirely due to copyright strikes-- and I really solely bring it up for context that they were dating at that period in time.

Basically I'm Gay only indicates a past romantic relationship, leaving their current one ambiguous, and both Dan and Phil's respective coming out videos state that they want to keep their personal dating lives private (both of these videos were released in 2019). Since then, though, there's one other explicit confirmation of their relationship-- I had a difficult time hunting down this exact interview in entirety, but my lovely mutual freckliedan helped me find the relevant screenshot:

[ID: In bold, the interviewer's text says: "So, just like a normal gay couple then?" Below, Dan's response is not in bold, and says, "Basically, yeah."]

I was able to find another screenshot at this post as well, which has the actual context confirming that they were discussing Phil previous to this. Now, obviously, this interviewer was a little forward in their questions, so I understand any reluctance in considering Dan's response-- however, Dan is a professional, and if he was sincerely uncomfortable with this line of questioning, I have faith in his ability to avoid answering it altogether. I therefore assume he knew what he was doing, and that this can be taken as a valid statement. This was from 2023 iirc.

Both of these excerpts-- from Basically I'm Gay and from this interview-- do suggest that Dan and Phil have a romantic relationship. On top of both of these more concrete confirmations, there's a lot more information/statements they've made public that corresponds with a romantic relationship, even if none of them are technically exclusive to romantic relationships.

A brief list: They've lived together for approximately 13-15 years, and bought a house together with a mortgage (for brevity's sake, I'll exclude other things that kind of pair with this). They make frequent sex jokes on their channel, several of which stating things about the other's sexual preferences. They recently went on holiday together, just the two of them, and given the tourism biz and how they discussed the holiday it seems like they were in a place intended for couples. Phil's sister in law, Cornelia, refers to Dan as an uncle to her child. They use pet names for each other. They frequently joke with the phandom, riffing off of jokes about their relationship (reacting to posts saying they are in a situationship, making a joke about having a joint toilet, etc.) This is most arguable, but it's highly likely that they share a bed as well (again, going off of the images/videos they've shown us of 'Dan's bedroom'). Lastly, other interviews with Dan include him being highly verbose about his relationship with Phil, but he's referred to him briefly as his "husband" in a long list of other words like "soulmates" and "just mates", ending with "who the fuck knows?", in one past interview (I have a picture of this but I can't attach it rn I can find it if you'd like though!)

It's not impossible that Dan and Phil's relationship isn't currently romantic, and even operating off of the assumption that it is, there's information we don't know about that (whether they're monogamous or polyamorous, for example, or whether or not they share a bed). It honestly just seems unlikely that their relationship is queerplatonic, given the past statements indicating that it has been romantic historically and the interview (+ supplemental evidence) suggesting that it currently is (I am very aware of the variation in QPRs, though, so I'm sympathetic to that interpretation from folks. However, I also understand that many explicitly romantic partnerships are considered to be QPRs-- in media or with real people-- in a way that contributes to gay erasure. It's nuanced and I am not the person best equipped to eloquently discuss it). Obviously, just to underscore here, we are not owed any information about their personal lives and the vast majority (if not the entirety) of the phandom just riffs off of the information they tell us, all of which happen to point to a romantic relationship. They clearly don't have any discomfort in us assuming this, and I personally don't believe they'll ever give us any more conclusive statement about their relationship any time soon, given that they've told us enough that the implication of a romantic partnership is pretty solidly there.

TLDR: Dan and Phil have "hard launched" (AKA released information that portrays their relationship as irrefutably romantic) 2-3 times. There is also other more indirect information that seems to confirm a romantic relationship, though if one wanted to, it could be read as non-romantic-- however, given those conclusive statements, and the current way they treat phandom commentary about their relationship (AKA not giving a shit), it is the effective conclusion that they are in a romantic relationship. Other conclusions, such as them being queerplatonic or them having broken up, seem to rely on a lot of critical assumptions, while the idea that they are in a romantic relationship is in line with their own statements as well as what we generally see out of them.

Thank you for your patience and your very kind ask! PS calling it "phacts" is funny as fuck, I did not utilize that verbiage here through my reply but you were a visionary for this. have a lovely one :D

PS. If any folks want to add, or if I missed something when glancing back over this and corrections are needed, please please please share! I am so deeply not a phandom history i am simply a little guy! much love

[fandomshatefatpeople]

Hey so I get that this mainly a blog about media but I have no one fat-positive in my life and I need help. I’ve been fat all my life and now I’m on a mood stabilizer that makes me consistently gain weight and like I’m at the point where even plus size stores don’t carry clothes that fit me. Everyone keeps wanting me off the pills but I need them right now.

I worry I’m doomed to never like how I look again because I won’t be able to wear the clothes I want. And with how many health problems run in my family I just don’t have time for the world to get more accommodating.

I don’t know what to do to or how to be happy

*hugs*

I'm so sorry you're having people fat shaming you in your life. I've personally gained like 100 pounds from different psychotropics over the last 22 years. Some of it was really fast (like when I got put on lithium and gained 50 pounds in 4 months). I've done my fair amount of yoyo dieting as a result and let me tell you please start curating your online presence to feature fat positivity. A lot of the fat positivity of the last decade or so is just... it would make teenage me feel a whole lot better honestly. There's tons of resources like @fatphobiabusters and the tag #fatshion if you want to see other fat people who are wearing whatever they want.

I personally gained a lot of weight with my knee injury 2 years ago and its been very comforting to see so much more in the way of options now.

I'll give you a few tips for shopping. 1) only shop sales and clearance on popular retail sites like torrid or lanebryant. (I've gotten so much cute stuff from Lane Bryant that I don't see in their stores and like everything in their stores is for rich people I swear). 2) Shop with different occassions in mind. Pick one fancy dress for things like weddings and parties or clubbing. Lots of chic cocktail dresses can be dressed up or dressed down depending on your accessories. Get some work outfit staples (black pants or skirts are a must have for everyone but as long as you don't shop impulsively and recklessly at the last minute you should find a few things on sale now that will wow people when you finally debut them) 3) I know its hard to shop online but it can get easier if you do a few things. First of all is know your measurements. Get a measuring tape and measure your chest/bust your hips and your tummy where you want your pants to be. (this totally depends on whether you're looking for like high waisted pants or jeans btw).

Ok that's all I can think of right now but I might do a post that highlights my recent shopping sprees.

mod laina

[ch4osworld]

THE PASSENGER

Chapter 3

Words:889 @cherry-4200 @adaizel

Ok so you guys before you read this i must tell you that it actually sucks ass. I didn't have time to plan anything for the fic this week as it was literally full of things to do and to not let you all without an update for too long i did this monstrosity. I did it in like some minutes and it was a last minute thingy but i promise that the plot of this fic is good i just can't write happy things in my "poetic" style for the death of me so i had to improvise. Again i am deeply sorry for whatever this is.

A few years have passed since Lilith's disappearance and Lucifer depression was really getting to him, but you always managed to help him through it. After she was gone you stopped travelling around hell and started living with him and Charlie. You loved navigating through the inferno, as much as it was grotesque, but Luci was your top priority. It seemed like he was getting, happier, in a sense. You didn't have to help him as much as you did in the past. It seems your sweet reassurances were useful for once. His joyous demeanor was slowly creeping through the cracks filled with suffering. Charlie was a fully grown woman by now, you were so proud of her, of what she has become. She recently started some sort or project, a hotel to redeem sinners. Her dad wasn't really...fond of her dream, but you supported her as much as you could. Her and Lucifer lost a lot of their relationship. They were....distant, she did love him, as much as he did love her, but it saddened you to see them grow apart. After Lilith's disappearance you started to care for Charlie as if she was your daughter, she was so young when she lost her mom, she needed someone to care for her like only a mother could, and you decided to fill that role. After a while she got accustomed to you, she grew to love you, to see you as family, even when the thought of Lilith still lingered inside her. She was such a sweet girl, you were sure she could do it.

As for Lucifer, your feelings for him never went away, they only grew the more you were togheter, and it was the same for him too. He loved you oh so dearly. He desperatly wanted to make a move, but he was afraid, deathly afraid of it. Lilith was still in his heart, y/n helped him a lot to move on, but he still wasn't ready. You decided to plan something for you and Luci to distract him and help him get better. And what's more relaxing then swimming? You searched for him among the intricate corridors of the castle, founding him in his room, making another rubber duck: "Oh Luciiiii~" you exclaimed, catching his attention, slowly moving your way towards him "Oh! G-good morning, do you need something? I am quite busy right now as you can see...uh...you can stay here with me and help me! If you want..." He replied. He was starting to get more nervous around you and you felt guilty about it, you thought that maybe you did something wrong. If that's the case then the pool day might be able to help him forgive you you hoped "Uh, are you almost done with that? I planned something for us today but we could do it later if you're busy" "NONONONO! I-I am happy to do anything if it's with you–uh I mean don't worry, we can do it now!" He spluttered, as he looked away from you to hide his growing embarassment "Ok so uhm, I've noticed you are recently getting more stressed, soooo you know the pool you have but that you basically never use? What about having a relaxing pool day with nonother than me?" Lucifer contemplated the idea, but of course he accepted. How could he not when you were so excited to spend the whole day with him? "YES–uh of course I accept" "PERFECT. I'll wait you in there while you get ready byeee!" You exclaimed, as you burst out of the door, a sigh coming out of his lips. You were hopeless, but he loved you for it, plus it was an excuse for him to see you in a bikini. He got ready for the pool and made his way there, you were already waiting for him in the cool water and oh my god was he a sight to see. You had to physically  restrain yourself from watering down your mouth, the same was to be said for him though "Ehy, sorry if I didn't wait for you, it was just so fucking tempting" you said looking up at him "It's fine, i guess you'll just have to WATCH OUT!" He exclaimed diving into the water "OH COME ON LUCIFER FUCK YOU I WASHED MY HAIR YESTERDAY" you shouted at him, him exploding in a fist of laugher "that's what you get for not waiting for me". You sighed, he was hopeless, you were truly infatuated with him weren't you? "You owe me something for this mister" you told him, crossing your arms "yeah yeah sure" he replied giggling. Oh god you were such a sight in that, it was hard not to kiss you right then and there. "Uh do you hear that too?" He said all of a sudden "hear what?" "My phone's ringing, wait a sec" he replied, teleporting his phone there. He started at it for a second before screaming "OH FUCK IT'S MY DAUGHTER WHAT THE HELL DO I DO!" "Luci, calm down. Breath in and out it's going to be fine, now be a good dad and respond" "Yes yes you're right" he cleared his throat while finally responding to the call "Ehy bitch!" Ok maybe he was more hopeless than you thought.

[thephooka]

Happy Webcomic Day! My webcomic White Noise is a labor of love--according to Procreate, this page took me 15.5 hours to complete.* Here's a look into that process!

Some other notes:

The thumbnails are done on graph paper and I script while I do them--there is no separate written script for White Noise. I usually spent a couple hours on weekends as needed thumbnailing, sometimes at a coffee shop or at home listening to records.

I then set up the file in Photoshop, so I can lay in the text and use the template I have with bleeds already set up. The text is rasterized and I shuttle the file over to my iPad via Airdrop.

The bulk of the actual work is done in Procreate, which records timelapses that I sometimes share to my Patreon. I usually spend a couple hours most nights after my day job or on the bus commuting doing this.

Once everything art-wise is done, I shuttle the file back over to my desktop to re-set in the text, add a stroke around the speech bubbles (Procreate doesn't have that took fsr) and do the resizing/exporting for web.

On Sunday mornings I get up, queue the page and write the page descriptions. I don't spend any time on the page descriptions outside of that.

Also, this process goes for the whole first arc of White Noise. I'm done with that arc (which means you can binge the whole thing I'm js!!) and am experimenting with some different methods these days, but my workflow is still generally the same.

*Some more talk about the labor (and burnout) involved below the cut:

This particular page (and most of the pages I did in 2023) took a lot longer than normal because I was heading into a burnout period that I'm still lowkey in/recovering from. It's obvious to me now in retrospect watching the timelapse here and seeing how much noodling I'm doing and how much I'm struggling with the process, but at the time I was just very frustrated generally. When I'm not burned tf out pages take maybe 10 hours max.

2023 was a pretty stressful year--lots of big life changes, uncertainty, pet death, health issues--so it's no wonder it propelled me into burnout, but it just goes to show that even the slowest and steadiest pace is not sustainable forever. I've been doing one page a week following this general process for over a decade! And I stuck to that pace because I knew it was one I could maintain. But even so, by the end of this arc I found myself working more and more slowly, not really looking forward to the work, feeling anxious about being behind, unhappy with the finished work, and extremely annoyed with myself for not being able to give it my all right there at the finish line.

I did stop for a while after the epilogue and took a more or less complete break from drawing for about a month--the longest I have EVER gone without drawing, much less working on White Noise--which did help, but these days my ability to work is...inconsistent. I should probably take another total break, but I'm reluctant. What if my passion never comes back? What if people forget about WN? It's already pretty obscure, and with the general social media collapse, it's harder than ever to get people to read my work. Now that I've left Hiveworks, WN doesn't even get the benefit of being linked to other comics (although objectively very, very few readers actually got referred to my comic that way.) And frankly, I'm also just too proud to go too long without comic updates. I've always told myself, I might not be the best artist or the fastest worker or make a popular comic, but I'm consistent. Difficult to let that go.

This is all to say that webcomics are hard. We do them because we love them, we have stories to tell, we are seized with the human compulsion to create. We spend hours of our time, almost always on top of the paying work that allows us to eat, to make something that we then give away for free. It has consequences on us that the reader doesn't often see, no matter how careful we are about it. If you ask me, webcomics deserve to be valued more.

Happy Webcomic Day! Read webcomics!

[atinylittlepain]

Oh Baby - A Carmy Berzatto Story

dad!carmen berzatto x f!reader

carmy masterlist

a small family, a new family, trying to figure this thing out.

warnings | 18+ angst surrounding being new parents, work stress, but enough fluff to make up for it, i promise

a/n | this sweet little piece comes from a lovely request sent to me over DM, thank you so much for sending this my way, i hope i've done it justice. Also have to thank the cousins @tieronecrush and @northernbluess for reading this bad boy and letting me scream about the bear, love ya both

........................

He’s running late. It started with a question from Sydney about one of the new menu items, and then it was Sugar needing to show him a quote for some inspection they still need to get done. And then there was something with one of the new chefs, though he can’t really remember what it was right now as his brain fries with how late he is. 

He told her he’d be home by midnight at the latest, finish dinner service and get his ass home immediately. He had even made a joke about getting home just in time to give their girl her seemingly routine middle of the night bottle. But it’s now two in the morning and he’s only just getting on the L to get back to their apartment. 

It’s not like he has a hard time with the late nights. In fact, he always thrived on this chaotic rhythm. But he knows it’s not doing her or their girl any good. Getting home and crashing in bed, useless until ten in the morning, no help with breakfast or getting their girl dressed and ready for the day, shuffling into the living room to find her already working at her desk, her foot keeping a steady rock to the bassinet right next to it. A few days ago, the fleeting thought that she looked like a single mother, and then an immediate clench and clash of pain sliding through his chest. It’s the same feeling he has right now on the train, building and beating until he has to put his palm right over the hurt, like he might be able to press it out with the heel of his hand. 

He could slow down, everyone at the restaurant has offered that up to him. Shorter shifts, only there when he’s really needed, whole days off. So he doesn’t know why he can’t just accept that, why he’s still holding onto the restaurant with white knuckles. And right now, he’s too tired to give it much thought beyond how badly he wants things to be different. No more disappointed sighs, no more ships in the night, no more making promises only to break them. 

He’s only a little surprised when he walks into their apartment that the light in the kitchen is on, her light murmurings filtering through, enough to make that hurt even worse. He finds them standing in front of the microwave, waiting for a bottle to be warmed up, and for a moment, what a sight it is. She’s wearing an old The Beef t-shirt, legs bare and set in a slow shuffle side-to-side, her cheek pressed over the top of their girl’s head where she’s held in her arms, eyes dropped shut. A small smile that slides away when her eyes crack open to see him standing in the doorway. 

“You’re home.” It’s barely rasped on a whisper, a small frown pulling down each word. He considers for a moment that he’d really like for the ground to swallow him up right about now. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I–” His words crack when their girl starts to fuss, small coos and whimpers, tiny fists balled and pressing against her mom’s chest to arch her back away from her hold. And there it is, that sigh, that small collapse of her shoulders as she gets the bottle out of the microwave, no longer looking at him, brushing right past him to go sit down in the living room. He follows on her heels with all the timidity of a scolded dog. 

“I can do it, if you wanna go lay back down. It’s– I’d like–” 

“I can do it, Carmen.” Still not looking at him, her eyes focused on their girl, finger skating down the rounding of her cheek as she latches onto the bottle. He knows it’s one of the ways she tries to even the score with him, a petty thing to not let him partake in or watch this small wonder. When she was first born, and she was still breast-feeding, and he was still on a Sugar-mandated paternity leave, he’d hover endlessly. Just over her shoulder, watching the way their girl's hand splayed over her sternum like a perfect flower as she latched on, whispering in awe at her contented sighs and eager gulps. Always dropping a kiss to her temple, small words of love and gratitude, her chin tilting up, basking in them, warmth in the way she would look up at him. 

But now, now she’s looking at him with all of the kindness of a prison inmate, eyes blank and jaw set as she cups the back of their girl’s head, smoothing out the mass of curls already growing, just like his. For a moment, only fleeting, anger starts to rise like bile up the back of his throat. Anger that he’s here now, wanting so badly to be here now, and she’s the one boxing him out. But that anger is gone in a blink because he can see the way her eyes are starting to swim, red-rimmed and heavy down her cheeks. And he can see the way her lip is starting to tremble too, even as she coos and hums to their girl when she starts to fuss with the bottle. He can’t be angry when she’s hurting like that, when he’s the one who has made her hurt like that. 

He kneels down in front of where she’s sitting on the couch, a small relief that she doesn't flinch away when his palms come to rest on her knees. He can tell that she’s trying not to break, little sniffs to hold back the flood as their girl continues to suckle. 

“I don’t want it to be like this.” 

“Neither do I, Carm.” Said on a sigh, like, sure, nice words, not expecting anything to come of them though. 

“Tell me what I can do to make this different.” 

“I’m dumbfounded by the fact that you’re asking me to tell you what to do. Do you really not know?” Quick and clipped, still whispered so that it doesn’t disturb their girl as she finishes her bottle. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to arrange the right words to respond.

“You’re right.” The best that he can come up with at two in the morning, though at least it’s the truth. She just sighs though, shaking his hands off her knees so that she can stand up. And this hurts too, how easily she can do this by herself, or at least how easy she makes it look, transferring their girl to one arm as she pads back into the kitchen. A little more space between them as he follows behind her, watching how she holds the bottle against her hip to get the top screwed off, rocking and shushing their girl all the while as she soaps up the bottle. 

“Baby, let me do that. I can, here, just let me–”

“Goddamnit, Carm.” Still whispered, but still sharp, enough for their girl to let out a whine at her sudden exclamation, though she’s quick to soothe and calm against her shoulder. 

“Do you want to know why I don’t let you help? It’s because I’m trying to get used to doing this on my own.” 

“What?” It feels like the floor has dropped out from under him, a skittering, sickening feeling running up and down his spine. He wants more than anything to reach for her, for both of them, to thumb away the tears that are starting to fall even as she tries to steel her jaw. All he can do to ball his hands into fists over and over.

“You’re not here, Carmen. And when you are, it’s like– it’s like I’m living with a stranger. You told me before we had her that you would be here, that things at the restaurant were going to change. And I’m getting tired of waiting for that to happen.” 

“What are you saying right now?” She scrunches her eyes shut for a moment, pure frustration, and complete exhaustion, all the while still rocking their girl. 

“I’m saying that if this is how it’s going to be, I don’t know if I can keep doing this with you. My sister–”

“No.”

“Carm–”

“No. That isn’t– that’s not– you can’t just take her from me like that. We– we said we would do this together.”

“We already aren’t doing this together, Carm. And I’m just– I’m tired.” There isn’t any more to say, not now. She doesn’t look at him again, brushing past him through the doorway of the kitchen to get to the nursery down the hall. He doesn’t try to follow, numbly shuffling back to the couch, a full body slump, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose when the tears start to prickle. He listens to all the small sounds, stealing snippets of her humming, the quiet padding of her bare feet into their bedroom, the rustling of sheets. And then perfect silence, except for the broken exhales he keeps trying to stifle. 

…

Sleep happens, somehow. Curled onto his side on the couch, but not for long, the watery blue glint of dawn slanting in through the blinds when he’s woken up to the sound of their girl’s quiet babblings. The nursery is closer to the living room, so he’s almost certain she hasn’t been woken up by the sound yet. But he also knows that those soft coos will soon turn into full-blown wails, so he gets up, biting back a groan as his spine shifts and crackles upright before stumbling into the nursery.

Everyone seems to call their girl something different. She calls her bean, or sometimes pearl, any iteration of small, precious things, usually with a my in front of the word. Richie calls her cub, or cubby, a fitting choice given her father’s nickname. Sugar calls her curl because of that head of hair she’s already grown into. Sydney calls her miso baby, though it all comes out as one word like misobaby, on account of the cravings for broth and noodles her mother incurred while she was pregnant with her, something that Sydney was always happy to accommodate whenever she stopped by the restaurant. Carmy’s is less creative, he thinks, the first word he remembers coming to mind when he first held her in his arms, somewhere between wonder and utterly sweet devastation at the sight. 

“Hey, little, what’s going on in here?” It always shocks him, how light his whole world is when he picks her up in his arms, and how easily her cheek settles against his chest, his palm smoothing the small shake of her cries between the fragile wings of her shoulder blades. He remembers being terrified the first time he held her, that he’d somehow manage to ruin this most perfect thing. Laying in her hospital bed, watching, she reassured him that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, that perfect came from him just as much as it came from her. 

“It’s breakfast time, isn’t it? We’re gonna let your mom sleep in, okay? I’ve got it.” He drops his lips to the crown of her head, taking a long breath in as he shuffles out to the kitchen. And he does have it under control, after all, he knows how to follow a recipe. 

He keeps her close in one arm, only fumbling a little with the one-handed bottle into the microwave production, but he manages. And then onto the couch and honestly, he thinks it’s a little holy, it certainly feels that way. Watching her eyes slip shut in contentment as she drinks from the bottle, her tiny gasp and sigh when she’s all done. How could anything ever be as good as this? He doesn’t think it’s possible.

“Think we oughta make breakfast for your mom, huh? You wanna help?” She gurgles over his shoulder as he finishes burping her. He’ll take that as a yes. He maneuvers her high chair into the doorway of the kitchen with about as much grace as his one-handed abilities will allow him, trying hard to stay silent, peering down the hall to make sure she hasn’t woken up yet. Coast clear, he settles their girl into the high chair and gets to work. 

There’s a slightly old half of a loaf of brioche on the counter, something he brought home a few days ago, one of Marcus’ new projects. Eggs and milk in the fridge, so his plan is already forming. 

“You know, when I first met your mom– you’re a little too young for the details, but– the morning after, I made her french toast. I think it got me a second date.” He whisks up the eggs and milk quick, a pinch of cinnamon like he knows how she likes it. 

“I think for a while she was just coming back for the french toast. But I didn’t care, I was just happy that she kept coming back.” Butter melting deep and golden in the pan, and then the silent sizzle and snap of the battered slices of bread frying up perfect. He glances over to their girl in between checking on the bread in the pan.

“You weren’t done, were you, little? I’m sorry, I got you.” A little spit-up down the front of her onesie. He stretches between the stove and her high chair to dab it up with a clean dish towel, not even trying to resist the want to press a kiss to her forehead, earning him an exasperated gurgle from her.

“Already too cool for me, huh?” She smiles, showing off the two new teeth that have only started to come in. He doesn’t think he’s ready for any more teeth to start coming in yet.

He’s just plating up the first few slices when his ears prick to the sound of stirring, what sounds like a stretch groaning in her chest from down the hall. Bare feet padding, stopping at the nursery, he’s sure, and then coming closer, his heart starting to kick up in anticipation. 

“Good morning, my bean.” He can hear the kiss she drops to their girl’s cheek, and he chances a glance over to see her bending over the back of the high chair to nuzzle her face into their girl’s, contented giggles bubbling up in her small chest at her mother’s ministrations. His heart stutters stop for a moment before the gears start to turn again in a much better rhythm. But too long of a glance because–

“Oh shit.” The smell of singe, one of the slices burnt up and unsalvageable. He’s quick to scrape it out of the pan. Still plenty to make this right, okay, not perfect though. He was going for perfect.

“What’s all this?” She’s being quiet, not looking at him as she gathers their girl out of the high chair and into her arms, a small sway side to side. 

“I, um, breakfast– you hungry?” 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Go sit, I’ll get it.” 

“Did she–”

“Yeah, I fed her.” She’s finally looking at him, bewilderment rounding and widening her eyes, though she quietly nods and shuffles through the kitchen. A soft graze past him and toward the small dining table they have set up in front of the windows, now letting in the first honeyed light of the morning. 

Two slices, steam still rising and melting down a sliver of butter. Syrup on the side because she doesn’t like it to get soggy. And a plate for himself too because he knows she’ll tell him to eat, even as mad at him as she is now. 

She keeps their girl in her lap, her arm curled around the soft round of her belly to hold her upright, and he can’t help but smile, sitting down across from them. A small sigh with her first bite and it feels like the greatest relief, something slackening beneath his ribs. 

“I didn’t play fair last night. I’m sorry, Carm.” Always beating him to the punch, he hates that she’s apologizing.

“No, you were right. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m gonna make some changes, okay?” She sighs, her lashes dropped to the tops of her cheeks, not buying it. And he doesn’t blame her, he’s talked about changes in the past. Though the changes have yet to happen. 

“Baby, I’m serious. I’m gonna talk to Sugar today and get this figured out. Not gonna keep messing this up.” 

“You aren’t messing up, Carmen. I know how important that restaurant is to you. And maybe it’s selfish, but I just want you here more, with us. You’re missing so much, and I don’t want that for you.” Their girl chooses that moment to start to squirm in her hold, pressing the dough of her palms into the edge of the table to stand up in her mother’s lap, turning around and wrapping her small arms around her mother’s neck, making a smile get big and bright on her face as she smacks a string of kisses on her cheek, a quiet thank you, my bean. Missing things like this, he thinks. His heart aches with it. 

“Nothing is more important than this. I think when she came– I was just like– holy shit, you know?” Her smile tempers, settling on him as she continues to accommodate the squirms and shuffling of their girl in her lap. 

“Yeah, I’m familiar with that feeling.” 

“This isn’t an excuse, I know it isn’t. But, I don’t know, I think I believed that if I could just work harder, make sure the restaurant was good and money was coming in that– that it’d somehow make me feel less terrified.”

“Terrified?” 

“Of getting this all wrong. I just– Jesus Christ, I want everything for her.” There’s more he’d like to say, but he cuts himself off with a resigned laugh, holding his head in his hand as he watches their girl twist around in her mother’s arms again, looking at him now like somehow she knows he’s talking about her. And then a small hand reaching out across the table. Small hand reaching for him.

She gets up with a sigh, rounding the edge of the table, an easy pass-off, their girl’s hands grasping at his t-shirt, the same one he came home in last night. He holds her close, taking another deep inhale of the crown of her head before looking up at her mom. Her mom, his woman, his partner, who carefully runs her fingers back through his mussed hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

“There are so many people also working to make sure that restaurant is good, Carm, and it is. But I– we need you here, we just do.” Her palm slips down along his cheek, and he turns his head to press a kiss to the center of it. A much smaller hand tugs at his curls to get his attention, making him laugh as he drops a kiss to their girl’s temple. 

“You’re right. This is where I need to be. I don’t want you having to do this on your own anymore.” He gets up with a sigh, hiking their girl onto his hip, reaching out for her with his other arm, his fingers curling behind the nape of her neck, a small coaxing that she allows, pressing her forehead against his.

“We’re gonna do this together, alright? I’m here, and I’m gonna figure out how to keep being here.” An answer in the way her nose brushes along the side of his, an okay. And the realization that he can’t remember the last time they were this close is enough to bridge what space is left between them, more of a sigh than a kiss, but he’ll take it. Quick to be interrupted by quiet fussing and a small fist pressing against his cheek, both of them pulling away with a laugh to look at their seemingly perturbed girl. 

“I think we’ve made a small monster.” She says it absolutely dripping in affection, her hand coming to brush their girl’s sleep-tufted hair back from her face. 

“Maybe, yeah. She’s still fucking perfect though.” He snakes his arm around her waist, pulling her close so their girl is half-sandwiched between them, eyes wide as she babbles up at them both.

“We have to stop saying fuck around her, Carm. It’s gonna end up being her first word.” 

“She’ll fit right in at the restaurant that way.” 

A small family, a new family, figuring it out in their sun-soaked kitchen. Tired eyes and bare feet and quiet laughs. And there’s going to be more messing up, he already knows that. Both him and her. Passing sorry back and forth, willing and receiving. But this is enough to make it right, to keep going. This can be perfect. 

[prikarin]

Regarding Killer Trait Updates

Hello, everyone!

It's been a good minute since my last Killer Trait update, hasn't it?

A lot of people have been asking me about Killer Trait updates and when the full-game will be released so, after a lot of thought, I decided to make this post.

Here's the thing: my Patreon hasn't been doing well. It hasn't been doing well for several months now. While the decline started after Where Winter Crows Go's release in November of last year, it's gotten progressively worse from February 2024 onwards. And because of this I'm going to have to pause my billing for my current patrons from August onwards—at least until I have something new to post.

It'd be a lie if I said this didn't affect me, I'm only human after all, but I'm also well aware that Patreon is a tough thing to maintain in a way that's consistent and interesting.

Unfortunately, since I live in Argentina, my only real way to get funds for my games is through Patreon, donations on Ko-Fi and sales and donations on Itchio. While it definitely helps that I hire some people from Argentina for certain art related things (so I pay them in Argentine Pesos), most of the people I commission are from overseas, so it's always a must to be able to pay them in USD.

And that's the issue: since I don't have that much money anymore and I can't commission people as often... this inevitably delays my progress on both Killer Trait and Potion Pleasing (DEMO out now!) indefinitely. It's sucks for me too, but it's the reality: making games costs money.

As I mentioned in a previous post, Killer Trait will have re-designs for most of the characters (not counting Carl because his design was originally my own) since the ones in the DEMO were stock sprites I bought from an artist, not my own designs. And I want these characters to be 100% my own, which is why I decided to have them re-designed. I've talked about this in the past in more detail when I decided to have Crowe re-designed, you can find that post HERE.

Of course, for these new character sheets (with the exception of Oz's, which has already been finished) and the new sprites, I need game funds in order to commission the artist. Even after the sprites are done, there are a couple of backgrounds—the characters' rooms—that I'd like to have originally made (especially since the ones I bought from Minikle are very limiting and don't really fit with the characters' personalities). And this doesn't even account for CGs, which I'll probably have to postpone for a while because the sprites and the backgrounds are way more important.

Some might be thinking "What about Where Winter Crows Go?". While I was lucky that WWCG's first demo was so well received, I still spent a whole lot of money from my own pocket to make it. I bought a lot of assets and, when I got a few donations, I commissioned a few artists to help me. WWCG was NEVER a game made with only free resources.

Making the art book for WWCG was a way I found to get a little of that investment back, but I'm well aware that I'll never get all the money that I spent back. And that's okay! To this day, I don't regret having invested my money to make WWCG because it gave me a lot of experience, perspective and made me learn a lot.

Be that as it may, however, I can't realistically make the rest of my games free. As I mentioned before, game development is expensive in both money AND time. Without funds, it's a given that things are going to be delayed.

So... where does that leave things?

Well, after pondering on it for a while, I came to the conclusion that I'm not really ready for a crowdfunding campaign right now. Those are extremely hard and ALSO cost money to advertise well and make sure everything's in order. So... the temporary solution I arrived at is setting goals on Ko-Fi! 

How would this work? Basically, I would set a monetary goal of the amount of money needed for a certain asset in a certain game that needs to be made. For example: sprites & character sheets in Killer Trait. Once that goal is met, I'll commission the person in question so they can start working on it! After that, I'll set the next goal and so on 💪

I'm thinking of setting the first Ko-Fi goal once August starts. And from there... I'll see how it goes! If things don't go well, I'm also considering making Where Winter Crows Go paid for a while—don't worry, I would make an announcement first—because I honestly have no more ways of getting game funds for Killer Trait and Potion Pleasing and, as mentioned before, making games is really expensive (and I'm only one person).

Thank you so much for reading until the end and I hope you have an amazing day!

[merakiui]

I wrote this whole thing out already tbh but I accidentally reloaded my tab 😭 so I have to type it out again 💔. I'm sorry if the first one somehow sent already and you get this twice

But nono that is Absolutely an NBC dress!! I see the vision!! I am personally not as big of a Rollo fan but I DO think he is a fascinating little bug. I'm putting him in a little jar under a big ol' magnifying glass and observing him for forever. I like that Masquerade offered us a look at other mage schools and how they work, what villains they're based on, etc. I really appreciate him for that. I did actually really enjoy what we got to learn about him too. Fun stuff! Love Masquerade.

AAAA fashion and eel blessings! I'm so honored :D!! Tbh Floyd has always been much much kinder in gacha than his brother ever has been,, so even tho I loved Jade first maybe I should give that other eel his proper chance. Since he seems to love my keys so much lol

I totally forgive on the forgetting to answer tho it's okay 😭!! These asks get very long. It's bound to happen! Obey Me had that update though a few months ago and it's been a godsend so far!! I played for forever but my cards weren't ever strong enough to reach the later story :( so I'm really glad Nightbringer offers the full thing for free so I can binge read!!

Since I brought up other games though,, I've been wanting to ask actually if you've ever looked into Diabolik Lovers? If you haven't and ever want to... I do want to warn you that the anime is NOT very good unfortunately </3. It's one of those animes that's just kind of a really shitty ad for whatever it's original media form was. It skips out a lot of important lore/character info, and doesn't really showcase each character properly since it tried very hard to focus on just 1 brother and failed. So the ganes/translations are 100% the way to go.

I bring it up tho bc it's my fave character's birthday today :D!! Ohh,, Reiji Sakamaki the strange little specimen you are <3 <3 my lovely wife that drugs people. I adore him. I think tbh you could like him too based on the stuff you usually talk and write about here. But obviously I could be very wrong! No way to actually know.

- :3

AAAA the horror of reloading the tab... I've done that too many times. T_T I know the pain well. </3

YES!!! Glomas gave us so much!!! It's one of my favorite twst events. Being able to see what other magic schools are like and how they function (NBC having a student council in contrast to NRC's Housewarden system). I really hope there will be more events like it! I'd love an event where the RSA students are given more spotlight or an RSA-centric event!!! It would be so exciting!!!!

:O giving Floyb a proper chance...... may he come home so quickly!!! May he jump into your arms enthusiastically!! It's Jade's loss for being so stubborn in coming home. >:( no hugs for that eel.

That feature is so helpful and nifty omg!!!! I want to finish the main story and learn more from where I stopped a while back. ;;;; after becoming a Jade enjoyer, my eyes have opened to Barbatos hehe.

DIABOLIK LOVERS OMG...... now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time. I did indeed watch the anime many years ago, but I actually haven't delved too deeply into the translations of the game. I might have to because,,,, vampire....... cool,,,, pretty,,, deranged.... orz the sheer grip those brothers had on me...

Please forgive my late reply!!!! >_< your wife's birthday has since passed, but that doesn't mean we can't still celebrate Reiji Sakamaki, the wife ever!!!!!! <3 I think my taste in fictional men has refined with my age because the polite (as a front) types (Reiji, Kyoya, Jade, Sebastian, etc etc) were never my preference, but now I am LOOKING. 👁 👁 I think I need Mr. Reiji carnally.

[syscultureis]

Um, I don't really know how to start this, but I don't really know how to um deal with this I guess, I think I have P-DID?

Like, the thing is is that I guess I'm in denial? Like, the thought of having P-DID is distressing but after reading the ICD criteria, it's the only thing that can explain all my (? ours? theirs?) behavior

I mean, I've always been able to notice myself (?) Shift into different personality states (kinda like being conscious but having things like my behavior, my thoughts morphed and changd, like being a puppet involuntarily controlled by an outside force, and i found that it happens during specific situatiobs)

Like I have states that i can define, but they feel like more of a different version of me? Like I'm a robot with different identity knobs which can be switched ig??

I don't really know if I should refer to these states as alters or smth, I've only been able to classify them by the way they control me and my behavior? But I've never heard them, I don't know if they have identies? I don't really have a headspace persay, and the idea of not being the only person in my body is extremely distressing to me (I'm sorry I don't know if this is a rude thing to say or a bad idea to have)

I'm sorry I'm rambling I'm just stressed about the whole thing and I don't know what to do, I can't pursue proper diagnosis due to my family being extremely against therapists, psychiatrists and such, like I don't want to believe it's true but from the research I've done it's quite literally the only possible option, sorry for just writing this all, I don't rly know how to be reacting rn

Honestly your experience sounds pretty similar to ours

In early system discovery, our host at the time described what they were feeling as "I Don't have DID, I just feel like I'm the body of a DID system"

As we did more research, and healing and just general self discovery, we learned more that our current host was aware of cofronting, and co-consciousness, and because they were trying to figure out "what was wrong with them" they were more aware of it than they had been before

It was scary and distressing, and actually did contribute a bit into them going dormant and me taking over (it was not the main reason, the main reason for the host change was personal. But this did add to it a bit)

When I took over I just straight up forgot the previous host was even thinking about that, I had passing thoughts about it (probably from other alters who had realized during that time and wanted me to be aware too)

Things changed the more we became aware of our own system functions, and even now years later we still learn new things

Usually I don't recommend denial, accepting yourself and all your parts (regardless if you're a system or not) is important to being able to thrive and live.

However, if it's causing you distress, there's nothing wrong with stepping back and just letting yourself breathe for a minute. Don't worry about knowing everything about yourself 100% of the time with 100% accuracy

When I started my own questioning, I had to step back from it a few times. This is a disorder that tries very hard to be covert (even if the brain is bad at it sometimes), it's not always going to be easy to figure it out.

But there were also times where I just focused on my system instead of trying to rule out DID completely. If I noticed I felt like someone else was near front, I talked to them. We found personally that talking out loud worked best for us, even if it was just the full fronter translating thoughts into words.

It helped me accept it more, and the idea of having DID became a bit less scary because I was becoming friends with the other alters

This might not work for you, and that doesn't mean you aren't a system if it doesn't, this is just what helped my system

[turtletaubwrites]

Turtletaub Blog, WIP, & Health Update

I wanted to put this out there so no one freaks out! My daily queue is going to run out in a few days. I initially used the queue for my adhd, so I wouldn’t spam you for three weeks and then forget to reblog things for months, and I didn’t tag it before since I was on here everyday. Now that it’s going to run out, I’ll be adding to it and I’ll tag it as #turtlequeb

Things have still been unfun over here lately, but I’m okay, and health things are hopefully looking up. There's a health/life update/ramble below the cut if you're interested.

Part 32 is almost done, and I’m going bonkers waiting for y’all to read it. The current life situations have taken up a lot of my free time and energy, but it’s soo close! 😭

I’m also working on a brief dossier for our suitors since I’ve done way too much research on these guys, and I know how hard it is to keep track of all of these characters in this giant One Piece world!

I miss y’all so much. I feel extra yucky that in my current struggles I’m having such a hard time focusing and connecting, especially since this community has helped me get through such difficult times. I’m really hoping that I can get back to the things I enjoy soon, especially interacting with my favorite internet fiends! 🥰

Health/life update below the cut: (cw health, mental health, medications, side effects, depression, bipolar disorder, doctors)

It’s wild just how much medication can help people.

Without the Lamictal that I took for three years, I have reverted into severe depression, and it has been debilitating.

It’s like I WAS an adult with full control (lol, mostly) over my mental and physical capacities, but now that I'm off the medication, I have reverted to a child, a preteen, a helpless human with no ability to regulate my own emotions, or even influence my own behaviors.

For the last three years, I was finally able to utilize my intellect, my experience, and my wisdom, while dealing with stressful situations.

Now I feel like I'm 13 again, lost, desperately clinging to distractions to keep from dying inside, from falling apart, or disappearing.

But it turns out that the whole reason for going off of the medication might have been avoided.

During these treasured three years of mental stability, I experienced symptoms that negatively impacted my physical, and mental health. I went to doctor after doctor for this unusual issue, only to be told that there was nothing to be done.

Until I finally got the referral to a specialist last week, and they immediately diagnosed the actual issue, and said that the other concern was false.

So all of this suffering could have been avoided if one of the 10+ primary care or ER doctors I've begged for help these last 3 years would have said "you know what, this is an unusual and persistent situation, why don't I refer you to a specialist," instead of "this condition you're describing is incurable, take these pills, there's nothing else we can do" (even though it is NOT NORMAL to have these issues consistently for 3 years).

The new specialist caught me dissociating after diagnosing the issue in under five minutes. When I asked about the new med they were prescribing, they apologized that I hadn't been given the opportunity to take it before.

I now have to wait 3 months on this (non psychiatric) med to see if those symptoms will be finally be helped, but now that means I have to/get to retry the mood stabilizer, or something else since Lithium, Concerta, and Hydroxyzine are clearly not enough to keep me functioning.

I fucking advocate for myself y'all, but I was misdiagnosed, and kept getting sent away in tears. Now I'm spacey, dissociated. Still too scared and hurt to hope that this new thing will help.

I'm tired.

All I want to do is write. I will literally take whatever pill lets me get back to my preferred writing schedule. Gimme.

I'm trying not to let guilt pile up about not connecting, about not being able to write like I could when I wasn't severely depressed. Logic brain and depresso brain don't mix though, and my pile of unanswered comments and unread fics here and on Ao3 have been making me sad.

But it's just because I love this lil world, and I WANT to be here. I plan to try Lamictal again, or something else in about a month since I want to give the new med some time to observe any side effects.

For now, my mood stabilizer of choice is endless reaction videos of therapists and rappers reacting to Hi Ren, The Hunger, and Chalk Outlines. Ren's music fucking gets into me when nothing else can, and I'm trying TRYING to remember the lines that sit me down when I start to spiral.

It's helping me write to see him use his pain and trauma to create absolute beauty.

This is a giant ramble, but one more thing, I swear!

When I began writing for our Numbers Girl, and even when we got into her backstory, and trauma things started coming up, I didn't think about it like this. Since I've been diagnosed and medicated for 3 years, my ability to manage most of my psychological symptoms felt amazing. Those conditions went from being disabling to manageable and it was freeing. Writing about dissociation and trauma was easy because I know it all too well, it was satisfying because I wish I had found media to relate to when I was deep in it, and it was healing, because I was on the other side of it.

Now I'm back there. I did not mean to write a reader character dealing with mental health trauma while in the middle of it myself.

Hopefully I can hop back on some meds in a few weeks, and have the physical and mental symptoms I've been struggling with ease up.

I'm a trying.

It just made me sad laugh a couple of times while writing our Numbers Girl going through it recently, because I am now right there with her instead of reaching my hand down the deep, dark hole to help her climb into the light.

But we'll get through it together, and having such wonderful, supportive people cheering on my healing and writing is incredible. I can't begin to describe how grateful I am to all of you, and how excited I am to get back into this amazing community.

Just gotta go easy. Soften. Relax.

Thank you for reading 🙏🏼

Lynna 💜✨

[writingquestionsanswered]

Scared to Commit to Dream Project

xuliaxuxu asked: I'm an aspiring author who has been writing for a long time but never actually committed to my dream project because it scares me. I've read a lot about structure, good character development and arcs, and how it all works, but I'm still scared of not being able to write a story I'm proud of. Do you have any tips on how to get through the outlining process and first draft without feeling so much pressure on your shoulders? And are the first steps in writing a novel where you have so many ideas but don’t know how to organise them? It’s been a lonely process since I have no writer friends to talk about these specific struggles. Thank you for your lovely work here on tumblr it has been inspiring me a whole lot!

[Ask edited for length]

If it's any reassurance, the fact that you've been teaching yourself about structure and character development puts you ahead of a lot of writers when they first start out. But it's also a bit of a double-edged sword, because that knowledge raises the bar for what you expect to be able to accomplish. And unfortunately, having the knowledge doesn't mean you can instantly apply it perfectly. You still need to practice applying that knowledge before you can get really good at it. It's sort of like this: if you wanted to get really good at hand lettering, you could watch hours and hours of videos about how to do it... you could learn about the different techniques and the lingo, etc., but that doesn't mean you'll be able to do flawless hand lettering the first time you pick up a brush marker. You'll still have to actually practice those techniques for a while to get really good at it. Writing is the exact same way. And that can be frustrating because you know what you want to accomplish, and you have the knowledge to get yourself there, you just don't have the actual skills to actually get there yet.

So, here's what I recommend... keep the dream project on the back-burner for now. You can still work on the pre-planning (because even that qualifies as practice), but in the meantime work on other projects to get the practice in. There's a little bit of sacrifice here because you should find ideas you're excited about, but you have to write them knowing they're not going to be your best work. And that's fine, because writing them doesn't mean you have to share them or publish them. You can write them and keep them on the shelf as a reminder of the work you've done along the way. You can also revisit favorite projects later to revamp them with a more practiced skill set.

Working on something you're excited about and love--but which has the leeway to be not your best work--is the absolute best way to take the pressure off yourself when outlining and getting through the first draft. Once you've done this a few times and you know you're getting the hang of it, you can revisit your dream project, and just the fact that you know what you're doing will take a ton of that pressure off. Another thing that will help once you get to that point is remembering that your outline and first draft don't have to be perfect--and they won't be. Part of the writing process is having the flexibility to change things as you go, to tweak and improve, even into the later drafts. Developmental editing wouldn't exist if your outline and first draft had to be structurally perfect. :)

As far as organizing a lot of ideas, you might find it helpful to find a story planner of some kind. These exist as web sites (Novlr), apps (Fabula), programs (Scrivener), workbooks (Outlining Your Novel Workbook by K.M. Weiland), and you can even find time for download on Etsy. You can probably also find free ones to download if you can't spend any money. If nothing else, get yourself a multi-subject notebook and divide it into sections like plot, characters, world, brainstorm and get all those ideas out into their individual sections. Even that can make a big difference.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[the-togepi-man]

How do you deal with loving multiple people? I've been with my BF for almost a decade and I love him to pieces. Over COVID I made a new gay friend and started having feelings for him. We've hung out a few times and there's always this tension and pretty obvious desire between us. Still I prefer monogomy and wouldn't betray my partner like that. I talked to my partner about these feelings and he gave me a hall pass to fool around with my friend but I felt like that just made my feelings more complicated. Now my friend just recently got into a new serious relationship and I'm really happy for him but also it sortve broke my heart? I just feel like the most selfish person and I don't really have anyone to talk to about these feelings. Everyone has been understanding but I just feel like a monster all the time.

Awesome question, anon I'm going to put the tl;dr up here, then do more under the cut. I feel you, friend. There are days I still wake up and think "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve the love or kindness or patience to figure this out." "Some people search their whole lives for someone like my partner. I am spoiled and bad for loving more., wanting(?) more." But that's not true. You learn by unlearning. Love isn't something that can follow a textbook definition. Relationships are complicated and intricate and trying to put them in a category is stressful and will make you feel bad. I can speak on that from example right now. I love Sean so much that I can't imagine a world where I am not supporting and loving him and saying "thats my man." But I am also quite frankly, falling for another friend who I have been falling for for a few months now.

You learn to accept loving multiple people when you realize your human experience is yours alone to act on

I wont lie and tell you I have all of this beat. I still worry that I am the right thing for Sean (my partner.) I worry that he is one of the most amazing people I have met in my entire life and that he deserves so much more than what I provide. However... I have talked to him about it. And something he loves about me, is that I have that capacity to love. Not to mention, people are not meant to "belong" to someone. If he was unhappy or saw no future, he could have cut this off and lived a life of his own choosing. That's how relationships work. Who I am and WHAT I am bring something to his life that helps he grow and provides something that he wants to nurture and love. I am insanely proud of you for talking to your partner about your feelings. A lot of people don't make it that far. Some relationships don't survive that talk. So talking to your partner as the first step is incredibly powerful. Keep that dialogue open, allow for them to have a space where they can dip out, but also let them know how much you appreciate being able to share these feelings and work through them together.

It sounds like your partner is aware of your feelings and understands that life isn't black and white, and the norms we have established as a society. I think it might also worth be exploring why *you* think you prefer monogamy. Personally I think monogamy is all well and good, and while i wish I could just be a "one and done" kinda guy- I know that's not my heart. I have two friends who have been together forever, and they are also open. While one does fall in love, he also knows he is monogamous in that regard because he just doesn't have the time to provide for two people personally because of how busy his life is and will be. But that doesn't mean he loves anyone any less, he just has his definition of love and what he's looking for. I think in a relationship, if you show that you care and provide and put effort in to that bond, that's what counts. Sean has no doubt in his mind that I love him and still love him even when I've fallen head over heals as I have for someone while I write this. After all, love isn't a pie chart. You don't love one person 70% and another 30%. Each person is their own precious bond, so why should you have to assign them basic terms when that just doesn't do? In my heart I know my love for Sean hasn't wavered at all. So I continue to show that. My partner (and maybe partners one day) are a prize to be won every day, so I will always make sure I follow that philosophy. All this is to say, you have to create your own definition for what love is based on how you feel and what your morals are. It sounds like you're going about this in a way where you're the only one who is really in danger of getting hurt, and man, more than anything I feel you. You're not carrying that weight alone. I can't say it's easy, nor is there a right answer. If the guy I'm in love with (who isn't Sean) got in to a relationship right now, I know it would really do some serious damage to my heart. But that's what I told myself might happen, thats part of being in love and caring about someone. You want to see them happy. It could happen while single too. It's just how life goes. I talk to Sean about it all the time, and how scared I get that he might leave us- even though he's not even *with* us. I am really rambling here, but I guess I am just trying to say that, from what you've said- You're operating as a good person. You love your partner, and have love in your heart for others. You are acting with kindness, you are acting to make sure that nobody besides you feels bad. Your feelings are valid. No matter what anyone says, your feelings are valid.

The human heart isn't something that operates on logic. It follows no societal norms, it challenges your brain, and refuses to silence itself. Which is exactly why you need to listen to it, if only to help yourself understand that your world isn't black and white. You are not evil for loving more than one person.

Keep trucking, anon. Don't beat yourself up over who you are, and show yourself some kindness, as you clearly do for everyone who is involved with you

[19burstraat]

proving kaz is a tidemaker, even tho it's not canon and shouldn't be, but I'm gonna argue for it anyway

I already made this post ages ago and now this has been in my drafts for even longer, I just unearthed it... but I'm making it again, more in depth, bc I didn't hit on everything I wanted to last time. obviously this isn't canon bc the point of kaz is he's Just Some Guy and how that really really pisses off more powerful people, and I think that's definitely best, Kaz NEEDS to be otkazat'sya for his function in the story... but if you ever wanted to prove it in a fic, shit is EASY. (I am vaguely considering how it might work out in a fic. we'll see. I've done stuff that couldn't/I wouldn't want to be canon before with my jordie-lives fic, so...) I'll mostly talk in the context that he'd be a tidemaker bc I feel like that's the conclusion a lot of this comes to, but some of the points are more generalised.

obviously the basic argument everyone makes for this is that the reason kaz was able to get back to shore from reaper's barge is bc, subconsciously or not, as a tidemaker he could control the currents to help him, since that's one of the most basic tidemaker powers. in the harbour scene, he notices that the tide has moved to work against him, but it doesn't seem to prove much of a problem; he attributes it to his new will to survive, but... Well. Kaz is exceptionally good at withholding information, even in his own POV.

grisha not using their powers become ill or weaker; kaz isn't really physically ill but he has an element of the underfed and sallow about him that's generally attributed to living in the barrel.

kaz is also ESPECIALLY horrified by the state of mikka, the tidemaker under the influence of jurda parem at the start of SOC; this is attributed to his past trauma and his dislike for things he can't rationally explain, which, yeah, but he is thrown in a way we don't really see again for the rest of the series. he instantly thinks of jordie, and it's maybe the one time he succumbs to superstition in the whole series.

the obvious explanation for how kaz knew that coffee extract and paraffin hid the scent/evidence of grisha is that he's very clearly involved in smuggling (jesper mentions how coffee grounds were used when packing smuggled jurda shipments) but the second explanation,,, is that he uses them himself. he comes up with the solution with IMMENSE speed and he just like, has the coffee extract around. ok, sure, not that hard to get hold of, but still. and coffee gets mentioned in relation to him at least a few times, most noticeably the 'bitter coffee eyes' thing inej uses, which is amusingly romanticised, but also... inej why do you associate coffee w kaz... something you've noticed abt him?

(but then, you wonder why he didn't suggest this to jesper previously; the answer I'm sure he would give you is he did, when it was a problem. before that it wasn't a problem and jesper was doing fine at staying hidden on his own)

the gloves can also add to this one, since they presumably at least cover his wrists and therefore his pulse somewhat, though obviously that's not their main function.

recovers with startling speed from nearly drowning at the ice court; matthias has to get his breathing going again but he's almost immediately fine after. I know yk, heist fantasy book, gotta keep going, but still

kaz is almost completely correct about the methods, powers of, and appearances of the council of tides (one single thing, the method of hiding their faces, is wrong.) impressive, no...? he is also shockingly apathetic in the face of their threats; they fill his lungs up with water and he just coughs it up and then is like "lol" immediately after. this is funny no matter what the fact of the matter (major general of the idgaf war) but the fact his link to them is left hanging is also a thread that could be easy to pick up. I think it would be hilarious if he was secretly in the council, but I won't stretch it that far bc they clearly don't like him lmao, that would have to be a proper AU.

in the dregs, kaz has a corporalki (nina) and a materialki (jesper) but no etheralki. wouldn't it be prudent to recruit one, if he could find one? or maybe he doesn't need one. if he already has one around, for an emergency of emergencies... for a rainy day... (ha ha)

the way kaz's trauma is often described as manifesting, is with the rising of the harbour waters; so it's pretty reasonable to suggest that in suppressing that, he'd also, inadvertently or not, suppress any kind of tidemaker/etheralki impulse or power. possibly he can't even tell the difference between the two, or they're so tangled up he can't really separate them anymore, which is why he doesn't so much as even think to attempt to use it. still, if this was the case I think improvement with one would not necessarily improve the other, or vice versa. kaz hypothetically using grisha power he'd had suppressed would not magically make his touch aversion go away, I think that'd be weird, and I'd not want his PTSD to be passed off as solely being the sickness from not using grisha power, that's reductive as hell. but I can see them certainly being two things very much intertwined.

we don't know a lot about grisha who are native to kerch, but assumedly he'd not have had much cause to use it in his childhood, on a farm somewhere inland, so most, if not all, of his experience with using it would likely be irretrievably tied to ketterdam and jordie so no wonder he just wouldn't use it. I don't think he'd even see it as feasible. perhaps it would be a very very final resort, but he'd never let it get to that point, he'd always want to try something else first. and anyway, he'd not be trained.

the sankt vladimir story is also thematically quite close to Kaz; holding back the harbour waters until he's finally too exhausted and lets it drown him. I like this regardless of this analysis actually it's a good comparison. patron saint of the drowned and unlikely achievement....

even if kaz wasn't an otkazat'sya, after all that happened, I think he'd try very hard to pretend he was. it couldn't save jordie, therefore in his extreme as hell thinking around that entire thing, I imagine he'd reason it wasn't useful, that he could get on better without it, and, like jesper, think it was a liability.

this would add a wild layer to him being the one to have the jurda parem on him for almost all of crooked kingdom; it would make it feel like his plan z was to take it himself. certainly he'd sooner do that than let jesper take it.

and finally: thematically, it slays. like half of the imagery around kaz (and kanej) centres around water (think the bathroom scene, how he only washes in front of her, etc) and that plays into both of their trauma, plus religious imagery, all this... it's a fantastic bit of extra theming. it just doesn't really work with how his character operates.

basically I think you could DEFINITELY make it work and it'd be a killer fic but again it's one of those things, like jordie living, that I don't really want to be canon because it undermines something about kaz's character that I consider pretty critical; in this case, that kaz is not really endowed with any special power or circumstance, he's just bloody-minded and clever, but that's enough for him to pull off almost impossible jobs anyway.