#like i didn’t abandon every idea from the original story

[dahldahlbills]

Gonna talk about my writing project but in typical ‘dahl talks about their wip’ fashion it’ll be extremely vague and won’t make any sense lol I just really need to say this, especially now that I'm so close to the end and it’s been something I’ve been feeling for a while too

so the further I get into the project, the more I feel like I've ventured so far from the original inspiration of this story and it makes me a little bit sad.

I wrote the original version in 2021 and looking back at it, it’s a completely different story than what I’m writing now. it was silly and lighthearted which… is not at all what its current state is like. I’m not entirely upset about it, because this new version has so much more substance and I'm extremely proud of it. I feel like I'm finally saying something and the message overall is really meaningful to me.

last night, I realized how I should title the story. Usually that’s a great feeling. Titling is one of the hardest things after all. But honestly it just left me even more conflicted. For the longest time I thought I knew what the title would be: something very similar to the original title (cryptlandia, the reason why i often refer to it as ‘cryptids wip’, which is extremely ironic bc the story doesn’t even focus on cryptids much anymore). That plan won’t work anymore though, because it no longer fits the tone of the story. Another reminder of the story’s evolution. I’m debating something different now, something more sincere, which has me feeling like I’ve completely lost the heart of the story.

Idk on one hand I’m really happy and proud of how this story’s evolved, but ngl it also hurts to see it shift so far from what i originally wrote.

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[vanellopes-mun]

Vanellope VS. Turbo: A Mini Analysis!

There are a million reasons why Turbo’s reveal in Disney’s Wreck-it Ralph is such an iconic and memorable scene. A scene that I and many others have replayed ever since 2012 and its impact has never left our minds. It solidified King Candy/Turbo as one of Disney's top villains ever created, surprising and shocking viewers with a plot twist that Disney hasn’t been able to overthrow with their other movies before they abandoned villains until King Magnifico but he sucks so. He WISHES he was as charismatic as King Candy plz-

But this analysis isn’t just about King Candy/Turbo, it’s also about Vanellope Von Schweetz. She’s the most important ingredient to making this scene work and play out the way it does and ultimately why it’s so fucking cathartic. ( More so than Ralph’s fight against Cy-Bug Turbo in my opinion) After watching how it was originally story boarded, the crew behind WiR perfected this scene with a specific detail that they changed. In the early storyboard, Vanellope causes King Candy’s vehicle to crash, causing him to glitch and transform into Turbo in front of the cameras. While I love love love the extended race between Vanellope and King Candy and sort of wished it could have been longer in the actual film, I am content that they didn’t go with the direction. In the movie, King Candy is revealed after trying to beat/kill Vanellope with his horn rod/pole thingy from his kart, she grabs it and glitches due to stress/adrenaline/her emotions, her blue glitch traveling through the cane and making contact with King Candy, finally putting down the facade he had on for 15 years and revealing him as Turbo to the characters in the film and the audience. It’s such a small detail, it only happens in a second, but it’s all it took for the start of his downfall and his eventual demise. 

And this is why it brings me catharsis every time I watch this scene. I could never put it into words before, but it’s beyond satisfying that the end of King Candy’s horrible reign starts with Vanellope and her glitch. The very same glitch that he caused trying to delete her code and remove her place from the game. The glitch that he used as an excuse to turn everyone in Sugar Rush against her. He usurped her throne and tried to ruin her life. Despite this, he still had the audacity to shout “Get off of MY track!” earlier. It brings his Roadblasters incident back up, it was his choice, trying to steal the thunder of another racing game that just got plugged in because he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone taking his place, only for Turbo Time and Roadblasters to be unplugged. All of this circling back and biting him in the ass. Vanellope was the key all along and he knew it, he feared her despite never really having a conversation with her as far as we know (Vanellope asking Turbo “What the-?! Who are you!?” leads me to believe that if they did converse in the past, it was not in his true form and he was most likely already King Candy. Plus it just goes to show how fast he hijacked Sugar Rush), but you can just tell by how desperate he was to keep her from racing, he didn’t want anyone to take his place ever again. 

So the scene continues and his famous line and breakdown goes as this: “I’m Turbo! The greatest racer ever! And I did not reprogram this world to let YOU and that halitosis riddled warthog TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME!” It’s just so ironic, unfair and hypocritical of him it makes my blood boil! And the way he’s raising his voice, jabbing his finger at her and Vanellope’s trying to shrink away from him as he yells at her face before he tries to murder her I just- So cruel, scary, wicked and disturbing! But Vanellope, this brave WARRIOR, is reminded of her glitch after Turbo calls her for what he believes is the last time. “End of the line, Glitch!” She takes a moment, everything slows down around her as she tries to control her glitch to escape Turbo. She glitches away, missing the wall and It ends up saving her life! I just cannot stress enough how beautiful that is! She used her disability, that everyone thought would simply doom her and the game, and embraced it when she needed it most. Her glitch, while it was suddenly given to her by circumstances she couldn’t control or prevent, she took control back. It’s her beautiful superpower and it’s empowering. After this scene, it’s the “end” of Turbo before he gets nom’d by a Cy-Bug. ( I want to note that he later says “I’m the most powerful VIRUS in the arcade”, part of me wants to believe he said that because clearly Vanellope bested him as the greatest racer ever but I doubt that was their intention lol)

They’re the embodiment of Selfishness vs. Selflessness. While Vanellope had everything taken away from her, she didn’t follow the same path as him. Turbo had everything taken from him, but it was his fault and he only ever thought about himself, never about the destruction he left behind. Hell, all she ever wanted was to be one of the racers, no matter how much they bullied her and ostracized her, she never ended up being evil like him even though it would be a perfect recipe to become a villain, this is also what makes her a mirror to Ralph.  (Remember in that one deleted scene where she said she wanted to break the racers’ legs but come on can you blame her!?!?! She was so real for saying that.) VANELLOPE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER EVER AAAA. 

Before I ramble any further, I will forever love the choices that the writers made for the climax and it just ends up being an absolutely perfect and brilliant scene and I will continue to rewatch for the millionth time. 

[irontragedyreview]

I'm going to be honest, I wasn't going to write about the leaks in this chapter (I still like to see more leakers posting about this, especially those I trust the most), but if there is something more obnoxious than the shipper discurse, that is the men discurse and the way in which they interpret the characters in shonen, because believe me, shonen is a genre where the worst takes by men on characters are concentrated, especially when you talk about the side emotional. Seriously, many men have not left their edgy child phase who believes that the world is horrible and that the characters have to see reality, etc., outside of the children/teenagers who watch the shonen genre more than anything for the fights, etc. many men who literally have hundreds of followers who analyze the stories as if they were experts on the subject, from the most toxic masculinity perspective.

Also, in all the previous chapters I wanted to do an analysis about Tomura and Izuku but no matter how much I wanted, the words didn't come, these leaks plus certain comments managed to unlock my words.

I'm going to start with Tomura because he's the birthday boy. The takes I have read of this character throughout the manga, especially outside tumblr and by men, are terrible, however nothing compares to the comments after these leaks, from people saying that it was great because his character didn't deserve redemption, that at the end was nothing more than a puppet of AFO and therefore his construction doesn’t matter or not exist because Tomura for them didn’t exist outside as an object for AFO, etc. One of the insights that chapter 418 left is that Tomura/Tenko has never made a single decision in his life and that his path has always been marked and signed by AFO. Those words remained in the minds of the readers and were validated by the fact that the origin of Decay was made by AFO and even Tenko’s birth was planned by AFO, because again AFO is the villain of  thousand plans and is in every step. Seriously, Tenko was only born to be another pawn in AFO's game, because according to the leaks AFO created him and therefore even Tomura's decisions are only a permitted ramification of what AFO wanted him to feel and think.

However, it’s a damn lie, it doesn't matter that AFO was a starting point for Tomura, his ideas, his relationships with the LOV, are HIS. It’s that he chose, not for nothing his last words before of being swallowed by AFO were "even if all my hatred fades and only an empty shell remains, I must still be a hero for them (the villains/his LOV)” it’s the first time since the final battle began that Tomura looked closer to peace and his words were reflected in being a hero for his people, the helpless who are abandoned by society. Likewise, another of the things that was repeated during his confrontation with Izuku, it was wanting to make it clear that he wasn’t human, that nothing more but destruction would be his salvation. In the same way he repeats that he killed his family because it was his will, because someone like him was born "rotten", his quirk marked him to be only destruction. This was even repeated by AFO, the constant search for Tomura to internalize that what happened was something he was looking for and we’re aware that it’s a lie. The decay's "awakening" was a traumatic event that was exacerbated for Kotaro, who beat his son and instilled fear in him, not for nothing Tenko was having a breakdown when his quirk "awakened", he didn’t want to kill Mon-chan, his sister, his mother or family, he was a scared child who just wanted to reach a safe place. The only death where Tenko could say that he has a minimum will is with Kotaro but ignoring the context is a mistake.

It’s not innocent that during the fight in the fortress Tenko would have felt more violent and resurfaced when he saw how all the heroes around him gave their lives to revive bk, we have him screaming "why no one helped me when there was still time, when I wasn't that broken yet" (not exact words but a paraphrase), Tenko was still there fighting against AFO, Tenko never disappeared no matter how hard AFO tried to quell him, the pain of a society that ignored him formed his vision of a heroes society like something rotten, the vision of All Might as the hero who shapes a society that hides everything among shiny things but forgets those that the heroes ignore or not fit in.

Because something that we can’t ignore that the society that gave rise to villains like Tomura and even AFO, is an apathetic and cruel society to people that doesn’t fit. We can argue that beyond all the things that AFO has done, perhaps he wouldn’t be what he is now if he had not grown up in a society that had just discovered the quirks and saw some of them as monsters and others as something to worship (he kills the shine baby because he was praised), society is so apathetic that it ignores or encourages a cruelty that creates its villains and then is surprised by it. Tomura is also the result of those people who saw a child walking in the streets in shock and stained with blood and passed by and when a single person approached him, just looked at him and said well the heroes will take care of it, leaving him alone. Maybe nothing would have changed because AFO already had a plan for Tomura but the apathy of that society that prefers to ignore responsibility (I'm not talking about citizens having to enter burning buildings replacing professionals, but doing small things, helping people in a small way example helping a lost child, etc). A society that was happy with someone like All Might protected them but when he began to fail and couldn’t take his place turned their backs on him, the same citizens who are seeing children fighting a war and the only thing they think about is losing faith when the results are adverse or when they had to give a safe place to civilians like them or heroes like Deku.

It’s this society that Tomura wants to destroy and it’s understandable because, we can discuss whether the way Tomura wants to do it is correct or not, but let's not deny that Tomura gave a place to people that society pushed away because they didn’t fit in and that he wants protect. What I'm trying to get at is that everything that shaped Tomura and his decisions to create the LOV are his decisions, he isn’t a puppet and his vision isn’t to be a pawn just because AFO gave him his quirk, his vision of society isn’t wrong, Tomura chose his path, he chose his people. Izuko's analysis will come shortly because this analysis was too long for me.

[cupidl0vesy0u]

i would like to know more abt ur origins au i love origins

Thank you a lot :D here’s some other ideas I thought of.

TW : little bit of death mention

— —

Tommy

The color of his feathers are from Kristin. After he got revived they turned more dark and his ear-wings become permanently shorter.

His markings wouldn’t start to grow until he’s older, but because he died before that they showed after his revival that made his stop mentally aging but some of his features did changed after some years flew by.

Not only his wings changed, his eyes did too. Even though both Kristin’s and Philza’s eyes glow in dark, Tommy’s started to glow even in daylight.

His skin become more sensitive to sun so he had to wear protection. Philza used blanket he gave to Tommy when he was born, to make cape for his son to wear. Tommy usually wears the cape and hat that has veil on it.

Because of revival Tommy never got a proper grave, but he did saw a unfinished grave stone with his name on it in basement.

Just some other ideas

Death family lives in tree house which has more rooms in the trunk of the tree.

It doesn’t look like it, but Philza is more clingy then Missa. He loves when Missa preens his wings or they cuddle in fluffy pillows by the fireplace.

Philza has flower tattoos on his back which represents people he cares about.

Philza loves to do tapestry (mostly because I love the tapestry that is in movie Brave), he still has one that got unfinished after the tragedy.

Phil didn’t have the perfect childhood after his parents abandoned him in the nest, when he was older he met Techno who helped him after he had the same happened to him. Techno is bunny hybrid (maybe part piglin ?).

After Tommy was born Techno left to explore and look for other hybrids who might need safe space to live in. (He visit more often now to help out)

Missa loves to teach Spanish, Tallulah is the one who picked on it the most while Tommy and Philza are falling behind.

Chayanne started to love cooking after he helped Phil with soup that helped uncle Techno with fever. His favorite things to cook are family dinners when they all chat and eat together.

He loves to go out to swim with Niki, they talk about flowers and baking receipts. Chayanne started to rewrite some of his books on waterproof paper so Niki can read some stories she can’t get on her own.

Niki is quite skilled with swords even with her being water creature, she talks about beautiful fencer she meet on her adventures. Before she met Techno and came here.

Missa loves give Phil small kisses when he or Missa are upset, while Philza wears a lot of Missa’s shirts.

They write each other a small love letters every month to show how much they appreciate each other. Because both of them are stupid and think the other one doesn’t like them back.

They have a small shrine made for Kristin to thank her for protecting them all. And for her to have easier way out to visit.

Sneeg has now his wife and daughter here too :D (I be honest I just wanted to draw them three as little bug family).

Sometimes Sneeg hides in small areas and when you or other residents find him he makes sound like Korok (Yahaha!), you don’t get something in return though, he steals something from you. (Mostly sugar or sweets but PSSST)

[brotrustmeicanwrite]

Using Schrödinger’s Mary Sue In Creative Writing

Every once in a while, out of nowhere, the idea of something like a cool fight scene, a witty exchange between the villain and hero or a very dramatic finale just ✨pop✨ into a writer’s head; usually accompanied with a sudden burst of inspiration. When those scenes involve established characters and stories, more often than not the writer regains consciousness several hours later having fully thought through the most epic thing they’ve ever written, contemplating weather or not they should rewrite the entire story to be able to properly include that scene.

But sometimes those scenes are just about A hero, A villain, A couple, not about someone specific. When that happens we often get stumped in the creative process because we have to sit down and actively create characters or fledge out vague character ideas we’ve had on the back burner to have material to continue the train of thought. And that usually kills that burst of inspiration.

That’s where what I call “Schrödinger’s Mary/Gary Sue” comes into play.

A SM/GS is a character concept for a specific archetype of character who possesses only the characteristics that you tend to give these archetypes, as well as all of the abilities for them that you came up with but weren’t able to include but wanted to.

To give an example, this is how my own SM/GS for the MC/Part Time Hero looks like:

- personality and appearance -

Vaguely Male

Light Hair

Kind (optional, might have been beaten out of them)

Intelligent

- abilities/roles -

Teleportation

Ghost sight

Half human / half spirit

Fox spirit

Dragon shifter

Follower of / reaper for the god of death

Genius magician and high priest

A planet throwing heavenly knight who helps the gods of creation fight evil gods from other dimensions

A literal god

Etc. etc. bc yes there is much more

That list on its own looks pretty Mary Suey. What makes that character a Schrödinger’s Mary Sue however is how to use them: Once that character has been placed into a scene their abilities are limited to just one, or if compatible and not over the top a few of those abilities.

This setup gives us the opportunity to experiment with not only that scene that originally came to mind but also old ideas that we didn’t want to abandon but couldn’t make work at that time. Basically what we’re doing is instead of playing with air, we play with an unpainted, unclothed, wig-less doll. It’s not concrete enough to just be copies of pre-existing characters but gives us enough substance to develop the scene; and if all goes well that doll won’t stay in that state for too long and become its own fully fledged out character.

(I used to really struggle with losing that burst of inspiration but since I’ve started using the SM/GS approach my brain has probably become the fastest and most effective recycling machine on the planet.)

Also, I you end up trying this for yourself, keep in mind to keep the SM/GS’s personality and characteristics as vague and basic as possible before going into the scene, else you risk writing the same character over and over again. Once you start working you can add proper personality traits and make a real character from that base concept. And of course, don’t be afraid to change those basic characteristics if you feel like it or the story develops into a direction that calls for it.

Happy writing :D

[solo-ojo-jojo]

Chenford Fanfic Teaser: Sequel to That's What Partners are For

The Rookie Fanfiction | Chenford | Rated E | Intentional Seduction | Undressing

Remember when I wrote a Chenford fic inspired by this moment from Bones?

📸 @romanticallyterrible [original post here]

Well, the sequel is inspired by this moment from Psych.

📸 @onscreenkisses [original post here]

I started writing the sequel right after I finished the first installment. It's been kicking around in my drafts, and I occasionally shake off the dust and work on it. I've made quite a bit of progress this time, and wanted to share a little bit of what I've been working on.

Here are a couple of short excerpts from the first half of the story.

Title TBA (Rated E) After the bomber is caught, Lucy and Tim give into their temptations. Tim decides it's his turn to undress Lucy.

... But every signal he had been getting from Lucy, combined with a gut feeling that grew stronger by the moment, told him—screamed at him—that she wanted him, too. 

Here goes nothing.

Tim leaned a hip on the bar, facing Lucy. Close, but just out of reach. While they waited for a bartender to notice them, Tim lowered his lips to Lucy’s ear so he could be heard over the music. “Do you trust me to order for you?” he asked. “I think I’ve got a good idea of what you like.”

She wouldn’t have expected for such simple words to have such an effect on her. But something about the way Tim said those words filled Lucy’s head with ideas that she had tried to abandon after she walked out of the men’s locker room yesterday afternoon, evidence bags in hand.

Tim had pulled away from her ear, but lingered nearby, not having returned to his full height. Lucy looked up at him slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I trust you.”

“Two glasses of San Matias Cristal, dressed, please,” Tim told the bartender as he handed over his credit card.

“Opening up a tab?” the bartender asked.

“No, I’ll close it out,” he told them. He didn’t plan to be at the bar for very long if things went the way he had hoped.

“Tequila?” Lucy asked him, surprised. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you drink tequila.”

The heat building inside of Lucy’s body felt like no match for the look in Tim’s eyes when he said, “I wanted to try something new tonight.”

...

“Cheers.”

Their glasses clinked together and Tim’s eyes followed Lucy’s movements as her tongue peeked out to swipe a taste of salt from the rim of her glass before she took a sip. She closed her eyes as she savored the smooth taste of the tequila Tim ordered for her before letting the icy liquor slide down her throat.

Tim took a drink from his own glass, all the while keeping his eyes on her as she lifted the lime garnish to her lips and sucked its juice.

He was overcome with his need to touch her.

His fingers reached for her face and his thumb skimmed across the tip of her nose.

Tim leaned in, his lips next to her ear. “Salt,” he explained, his voice rumbling.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly.

As his lips pulled away, Lucy could feel the warmth of Tim’s breath coasting over her cheek. But Lucy couldn’t tell if the movement bringing their faces closer together came solely from Tim, or if she herself was drifting closer. Their noses now brushing up against each other, Lucy could sense that their lips were just a hair’s breadth apart.

She looked up at him through her lashes. “What are you doing, Tim?”

“This? It’s just… very close talking.”

Lucy shifted in her seat to bring their conversation (and their lips) even… closer. “Mmm, I see,” she said, enjoying the vibration that was created between their bodies.

“And what do you feel like talking about?” she asked, briefly closing her eyes, then opening them to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

Tim placed his fingers on top of her wrist so lightly, it felt like a whisper.

“You.”

Yes folks, Tim does indeed try something new that night. 😏

The sequel is rated E, so instead of posting a second chapter of the T-rated That's What Partners are For, it will be part of a series.

The series is tentatively titled Take It Off and can be found here on AO3 so you can subscribe for updates.

[shadowqueenjude]

Tamlin's villain origin story part 6

Warning: there's like one line of crude language. Tamlin and co. have just duped the Inner Circle's attempts to ally with Helion! But Tamlin is not done plotting. He's determined to crush the IC under his thumb.

Tamlin’s POV “Summer will almost certainly ally with us,” Tamlin said, taking a swig of his drink. “Spring and Summer have been allies for ages.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to pay them a visit,” Lucien drawled from his place at the table. He had tipped his chair halfway back and draped his leg on the table, dangling grapes from his mouth. Tamlin didn’t bother to tell him to put his foot down. Lucien basically had free reign to do whatever the hell he wanted. He could’ve commanded Tamlin to get on his knees and beg, could’ve commanded him to abdicate his throne and hand it to him, and Tamlin would obey. Nothing in the world was worth more than Lucien’s friendship. Feyre had broken his heart. His sentinels had let him down. But Lucien had never disappointed him, never abandoned him. Not even when he ventured to the Night Court to find his mate. The mate in question had been granted a room in Tamlin’s manor, and she had agreed to stay there; however, she still avoided Lucien at all costs. Tamlin could tell it affected his friend far more than he let on but didn’t voice the negative thoughts in his head.

The Archeron sisters are not worth it. They’ll just rob you of your sanity.

No, Tamlin wouldn’t say that because Elain was Lucien’s mate. And Tamlin didn’t get to spend very much time with Lucien ever since he took control of Hybern, so he wasn’t about to waste that time getting into arguments.

“Tarquin forgave Feyre and Rhysand too easily,” Lucien continued. “Even if they did accept our refugees. You should definitely talk to him. Charm him. Make sure he wants to help us.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Tamlin grumbled. He hated the whole talking thing, even though he had done plenty of it by this point.

Lucien snorted. “Did you forget I’m ruling a country now? I mainly came to check on you and my mate.” He said the words my mate very quietly, as if he was afraid Elain might hear. “Besides, I could probably have Tarquin under my thumb in about 30 minutes time, but I think he’d appreciate hearing from Spring’s High Lord. Besides, he seems like he’d be more into pathetic males.”

Tamlin snorted. Lucien said the words casually, like it wasn’t absolutely incredible that he could work people like that, much less a High Lord. But his last line… “What do you mean, pathetic males? Do you find me pathetic?”

Lucien scoffed. “Please, Tam. After everything you did for Feyre after she ditched you? After all you’ve been doing for me? I could ask you to suck my dick and you’d ask how hard.” Tamlin scowled. Lucien wasn’t wrong, though.

“Besides, both you and Tarquin were duped by Feyre romantically. You can bond over that and convince Tarquin to side with you. My contacts at the Winter Court and Dawn Court have been working Kallias and Thesan. It won’t take much to convince them, especially Kallias after the dozen younglings. And my second Dawn contact, Nuan…” Lucien grinned wickedly. “She’s been working on a little project, courtesy of yours truly. It won’t be long before every Illyrian female rebels against their masters.”

Tamlin’s eyes widened. Oh, the Night Court had no idea how valuable Lucien was. They had no idea what kind of ally they missed out on by treating him like shit. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say the Illyrian females will fly high above their enemies,” Lucien said. He got up and patted Tamlin’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to turn up the charm, Tam. Tarquin is a pretty sweet guy; he’s young too. Flirting with him a little bit will definitely help your case. And for once, the ‘your hair is clean’ comments won’t be disastrous, but rather help your case.”

Tamlin blinked. “Isn’t Tarquin into females, though?”

Lucien laughed.  “Please, Tam. You don’t live as long as we do and not experiment.” He walked towards the door, then turned back. “Come on, Tam. You know what to do; you’ve been a High Lord for so long. I’m going to go check on Elain before I leave.”

Tamlin watched Lucien walk away, wondering how the hell he was going to flirt with Tarquin without absolutely fumbling everything like he did with Feyre. Although maybe a little fumbling would actually help his case this time. That’s what Lucien had meant, wasn’t it? To be genuine and awkward, Tarquin would appreciate it.

Hmm…

Lucien’s POV Sometimes, Lucien wondered why he bothered.

It had been months since Lucien and Elain had locked eyes and the mating bond had clicked into place. Months since where Elain refused to speak with him almost in any capacity. He knew she had gone through something horrible, that he had to be patient and respectful and give her space, but sometimes it was just so damn hard.

At least she hadn’t objected to staying at the Spring Court rather than the Night Court. He had expected her to protest, but she hadn’t. That was something, at least.

When she had first settled here, Lucien had spoken to her. It had gone like this:

“Are you ok, lady? With staying here,” he had said. “I know it’s not Velaris, but…”

“There are flowers here,” Elain had said quietly. Lucien’s heart rate had kicked up at the response. He was a flirt, a smooth talker, an expert emissary with friends in every court in Prythian and the human lands, yet all words failed him when she looked at him, spoke with him. He’d stumbled, saying “Y-yes, my lady,” cursing himself for stuttering. Why was it so hard? Why were his instincts, the weapons he used to work with people, now his own worst enemies? Taste her, touch her, smell her, claim her. Anyone else seeing him in her presence would think he was angry, but it was only him resisting the innate urge to take her in ways she was in no way ready for. The mating bond he’d grown up revering was proving to be more a curse than a blessing. At least at the moment.

“There is no need for a gardener here,” Elain had murmured, so quietly Lucien wasn’t sure if it was even directed at him. “The magic of the land means that flowers are always in bloom.”

“That leaves you available to do other things. Not just hobbies like baking. But something more than that.” Lucien grasped for the speech that always abandoned him when she was around, but to no avail. “Sorry. That sounded wrong. Did I offend you, my lady?”

“A bit harsh, perhaps.” Elain smoothed the skirts of her dress. Lucien couldn’t believe how beautiful she was every time she looked at him. Her long brown hair tumbled down her shoulders in waves like the stunning fall of Autumn leaves. It perfectly framed her soft face and doe eyes. What about Jesminda? Some small part of him screamed, even now. But the rest of his body was overtaken by the mating bond.

“But you’re correct,” Elain mused. “I cannot tend to my little garden forever.” She met his eyes then. “But I’m not certain I am ready for more now, Lucien.”

He understood the double entendre in the words. “I understand, my lady. I shall take my leave now.” He bowed as he left the room.

That wasn’t the same Elain he saw now, talking and laughing with Alis.

Some light had returned to her eyes, some spark that he hadn’t seen before. And just that little bit of joy made her look so heartbreakingly gorgeous that Lucien’s heart hurt.

Well, there was no need to speak to her. She looked perfect. Lucien made to turn away when Elain sensed him. Her smile faded slightly, but Alis beamed at him. “Lucien, you scoundrel.” She wrapped him in a hug and Lucien couldn’t contain his grin. “Lady Alis,” he bowed.

“None of that,” Alis said. “I swear you grow more and more handsome by the day. What is your secret?” Alis tossed him an apron.

Lucien replied with, “Lots and lots of exercise.” He winked at her, and Alis swatted his arm. “I’m surprised you have time for little old me when you’re off ruling a kingdom now.”

“I’ll always have time for you, lady,” Lucien replied. Alis just laughed. “You don’t fool me with your gentlemanly act, Lucien. But I’m glad you haven’t forgotten about us.” Lucien smiled at Alis, and was so determinedly avoiding Elain’s gaze that he didn’t realize that the way Elain was looking at him was slightly awed- and quite infatuated. As if seeing Lucien in his element had brought something out in her.

[anamoon63]

Rather Long Sims 4 Rant

Before I continue with my The Sims 4 stories, it is with sadness that I inform you that the Wilsons recently lost the beautiful celebrity home they had just moved into. I don’t know exactly what happened, what I know is that it happened right after the For Rent EP update (which I didn’t buy or install, but yes, I did update). From that day on, my sims, who were on vacation in Sulani at the time, were unable to get back in the house. Every time they tried to return, the game would get stuck eternally at the loading screen. I tried everything, even evicting them and returning them to the house. Nothing, just the screen kept loading forever.

I also tried to demolish the lot to re-install the house, but every time I did this, (and I tried a lot of times), the game either crashed or kept loading infinitely. After many attempts of a lot of things like repairing the game, resetting it to factory settings, removing my mods folder, restoring saves, and all the solutions I know (I am die hard when it comes to troubleshooting The Sims), I finally decided to leave it alone and accept that my sims would never recover their beloved house and that they had to move.

Now they’re happily living again in Brindleton Bay, in one of the bigger houses there; they are comfortable, and going on with their lives, though I still really miss and long for the other house, which is still sitting there, since I have not been able to demolish it to put a new one. It’s still stuck there, which annoys me to no end cause I like my cities clean and functional, and just knowing that there is an abandoned and inactive house there really upsets me.

I know I could start a new save and install the house in a clean Del Sol Valley, but that would mean Allan and his family would lose all their current social and work relationships, which at this point for me is unthinkable, with all the networking they have established, co-workers, school friends, romances, etc. Plus, what about all the makeovers I did to everyone they knew? I mean, I saved every townie I made over in my library, but would I have to reinstall them one by one? Maybe, but how? I still don’t know much about this game; I know that in The Sims 3 it wouldn’t be a problem for me.

Anyway, the Wilson’s story wasn’t over, it wasn’t difficult to move them, the only thing that hurt me were Allan and Zoe’s awards, trapped in their lost home. But in one of the rare and fortunate times that I was able to enter the bugged house in build mode, I saved the room where the awards were in my library, and then installed it in the Wilson’s new house. That’s how I rescued the awards that now lie on a shelf in Allan and Zoe’s new bedroom. I continued to play and got a lot more photo footage of them, in addition to what I had before the update disaster. By the way, this is the first time I’ve had problems with an update, of any kind. I pride myself in being an expert at troubleshooting The Sims, but I guess I still have a lot to learn regarding The Sims 4, which is a relatively new game for me.

Anyway, I plan to uninstall the entire game soon and reinstall it on my other hard drive cause I’m running out of space and will need more since I plan to get a few other game packs in the future. Once my game is reinstalled, I’d love to be able to demolish the ruined house in Del Sol Valley and, if possible, reinstall it on the cleaned-up lot to give the Wilsons back the home they lost. So, if by any chance someone read this very long post to the end, and has gone through something similar to this, (i.e. not being able to enter a house but also not being able to demolish it in order to reinstall it), please let me know if you were able to solve it and how. Any new ideas, other than everything I already mentioned and all those obvious solutions around on EA’s Q&A, would be welcome.

Sorry for the rant, and thanks for reading this far. 🩷

Note: The house is Famous Mansion, in the Sims 4 Gallery, by emma4101, original by JL_Sims 4. Never had issues with it before.

[riathedreamer]

Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me about your writing process? Maybe not on something as big as Footnotes (which is absolutely phenomenal btw), but how you start and finish projects in general. Thank you, I love your writing!

First of all - thank you so much for the kind words! My method, of course, is subject to change, and there’s a big difference between long fics and one-shots (and whether the one-shot is one scene or several). My answer here revolves around longer stories. And this strategy might not work for you - there are no rules when writing, but this is how I go from an overall idea to an actual chapter.

When I get a new idea for a story, it usually starts with one scene. In the case of Footnotes, this was the end of chapter 33. When I start turning the idea into an actual plot, I work with ‘pillars’. These are key elements/scenes that “make up” the story. Sometimes you do not have all of them, then start with what you have.

Then, when having to plan out the in-between, that’s where things usually get fuzzy. Here, I recommend writing in a physical notebook. I write my pillars with a lot of space between them so I can draw arrows and write notes. Then it’s a game of “how do I go from one pillar to another?”

You do not need *every* detail planned right away, however, I find it very important to keep track of all the pillars and know how they evolve.

In my earlier years in the fandom, I often made the mistake of just going with the first couple of pillars, then starting my WIP, then ending up abandoning the WIP when I didn’t know where to go. Therefore, I find it very important to always know where you are heading, and definitely how the end is going to turn out. Then some things can remain a bit unclear until you reach that point. Like - when I was writing chapter 6 of Footnotes, I had no idea what chapter 57 would specifically contain. But I knew the pillars, the major beats of the story, where I was going, what important plot points would happen.

In the case of a very long story like Footnotes, I ended up splitting the story into arcs. Usually I tend to have 5-10 chapters planned in detail when writing - how do they start, where do they end. Then as I get further into the story, I split the remaining plot points into detailed chapters as well, but when I begin the story, I don’t have *all* the chapters fully planned. And sometimes, when I write the chapters, they turn out differently than the first draft - maybe longer, maybe shorter, and I might split it up or mix it with the next chapter because of this.

So keep things planned, but also allow yourself room to change. Inspiration often happens while you write, so when you are writing the beginning of a story, maybe you come up with a cool scene or detail or something that wasn’t planned right away - that’s okay. With my original works, this all happens in a final edit, but for fanfiction, well, always keep it a joy to write, allow yourself this inspiration. And then there are the hardcore types that write the whole fic before posting, but I could never do that.

Alright, so I have the draft of the chapter. The first thing I do from here is to write a script. I went to playwright school, so it’s probably due to this. But dialogue is my strength, and it’s usually the key element of a chapter/story, so I start with a script, then “fill it out” with descriptions, etc., until it’s a fully formed chapter. My first draft of a chapter has the key element -  for example: “C in coffeeshop + N talk, C in bookshop, Bentley scenes, Muriel convo”. However, once I have a proper grip on the story, I tend to do a more detailed draft, especially when it comes to long dialogue between characters. Notes like: “Talk about: jokes about coffee - mention of lindsay - bring up Azi” will help me figure out how to keep the dialogue flow from one subject to another. 

Then comes the editing… I *probably* should do more editing, but I don’t. Look, I write original fiction, I am working on a book in my spare time, I’ve done editing as a living, and I just don’t like it. And for me, it’s very important to keep fanfic writing *fun*. It’s not a chore, it’s a hobby. If it starts feeling like a chore, then you’ll end up giving up on the fic. So I keep the editing light and quick (always finding time for proofreading, of course, even if I suck at it) because otherwise I’d tire of it. I shamelessly crave the validation of posting a new chapter right away, and I suck at waiting. I know some writers do way more editing, and I have full respect for that. But I will always advise you to keep the writing fun - it’s fanfiction! It’s done out of *love*, and you need that love to keep going. 

And that is my recipe for how I spit out Footnotes chapters. Every now and then, I need some time looking through my notebooks to keep track of all the plot threads and mysteries and acts, but I always know where I am going. It all started with “You’re gorgeous”, and things just grew. A lot.

[fleur-de-violette]

Let’s be alone together

AO3

Summary:

Harper and Cullen had been crossing the state in hope of small places that will allow them to play. They meet two girls on a parking lot, and maybe this is the beginning of everything. Prompt: Band AU

Word count: 547

“Hey.”

Harper turned back, ready to fight. A classical reflex for a young woman on the parking lot of a shitty bar in Fucktown Nowhere, NJ. But the person who talked to her didn’t seem to mean her harm.

It was a girl, with blond hair going down in her shoulder and a leather jacket opened on a purple shirt. Next to her was another, smaller but bulkier girl, all in black.

“Hey,” she replied, still a little cautious. Just because they looked safe, didn’t mean they were. From the car, she saw Cullen make her a sign to come back, but she signaled him to wait just a minute, and be ready to start if needed.

“I liked what you played tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a sound like this before.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I made some modification to my amp. You wouldn’t hear that elsewhere.” And she wasn’t half proud of it. Still, without connections, the only places that let them play were the ones like this one. “But you’re not here to talk to me about my guitar, are you?”

The woman looked annoyed. “Yeah, we have a bit of a car problem.”

Yeah, and wasn’t that a big red flag. Two girls, with a car problem. That was how every kidnapping story started. But on the other end, if it was true, leaving two girls with a car issue in the middle of the night, would be more than an asshole move.

She took a deep breath. Well, there was a reason she learned how to fight. “I… handle myself when it comes to mechanics. I might be able to help.”

The blonde girl let out a small laugh. “Um, no, there is a misunderstanding. I mean we had to abandon the car we stole because the cops were after us.”

She let out a breath. That made it safer. Not by much, but that made it safer. “Let me guess, though childhood?”

“Yeah, but we’re not dangerous, I swear. And if you give us a ride, we might be helpful.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I handle myself around a clavier, and,” she nodded to the girl behind her, “she can play violon. Don’t you guys want to make your sound even more original?”

That was… not a bad offer. With Cullens drums, her guitar, and these two girls… maybe there was something to make. “We would need a bass. And a singer.”

“My ex-boyfriend can play bass, I mean, right now he’s on the other side of the country, taking a road trip after his dad death, but I can contact him. He’s about as lost as we are anyway. Might as well be lost together.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea. I’m in.” She extended her arm. “My name is Harper. The drummer is my brother, Cullen.”

The girl took it. “Stephanie. And this is Cass.” Cass waved. “She doesn’t talk much with her voice. But you’ll hear her talk with her bow.”

Harper opened the car door. “Well then, come on in,” she said.

Maybe she was making a terrible mistake. Or maybe she was starting a formidable adventure.

There was no way to tell, but she relished in the expectation of what would come next.

[steelcladbutterfly]

Yandere Ghost: House

This is the fourth of ten halloween fics now. I enjoyed this one and I’d like to think I made it somewhat layered. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Prompts: Fog, Forest, House 

Ghosts are known as many different things across many different cultures, names for them include; apparition, shade, demon, specter, phantom, ghoul, and spirit. In general, however, they are known to be the soul or spirit of a dead person. They are sometimes known to only remain on the material plane until they have fulfilled their purpose, other times they remain until they are banished or otherwise forced out or destroyed. 

Your panting filled the air as you rushed through the forest, branches leaving long red marks all along your face and upper body, a few trails of blood joining the stream falling from your clenched hand as you continued to run full tilt in a desperate bid to escape the fog swiftly filling in the air behind you. You wanted to go home, wishing there was a way to turn the day around so that you didn’t follow your friends into the woods and into an abandoned house deep into the trees. 

They had wanted to check it out, spend the day before Halloween digging into places they should have just left alone. And you had followed them like the fool you were despite the warnings and tales told across town about the woods and the house left abandoned and rotting within. There were many stories, with different ideas and assumptions, but all had the subject and warnings in common. 

~~~~~

Something horrible happened in that house to the young owner, he had been found rotting in the front hall, guts strewn about, left for a week before anyone thought to check on him. His wife was found three weeks afterwards, shivering and unresponsive in the next town over. She had apparently been attacked as well, but had managed to get away, but, before they could get any of the story out of her, she died from the wounds, treatment having been administered too late to save her from infection. No one knew for certain what happened, but anytime someone had tried to move in after, they either left, ranting about something wrong in the house, or were never heard from again. And anyone who thought it was a good idea to mess with the house were soon found in the same manner as the original owner; rotting and strewn about in a bloody mess of twisting limbs and eviserated organs. 

After everything that happened, it was left abandoned and rotting for years, until only those who had been children at the time of the first death were still alive, old and still scared by the woods and what they swore lurked within. 

~~~~~ 

When you and your friends had arrived, the house looked almost slumped over on itself, standing in a small clearing with an overgrown garden and crumbling porch. The swinging bench to the side creaked eerily, held up only by the horribly rusted metal that made up its chains. 

You shivered, instantly feeling eyes upon you. You glanced towards the top floor, seeing moth eaten curtains move slightly behind the cracked glass and warped frame. Just when you were about to complain, one of your friends surged forth, leaping over the ivy and vines choking whatever remained of the front yard and onto the old wood that made up the porch. You were pushed along in the swell of gathering excitement as you slowly went up the groaning steps and over the swollen and warped boards of the porch right under the massive hole torn through the awning above. 

You quickly found yourself alone as you felt almost drawn towards the second floor, wincing at every creak of the old wood beneath your feet, listening to the laughter and thumps as everyone else explored below. You glanced around cautiously as you pushed open the door to the room you thought the curtains moved in. They looked to be the right shade and you slunk over to look outside to find the correct view, not noticing the door closing behind you and locking with a firm click. 

It seemed to be the master bedroom, large bed with dusty and decaying sheets left like the rest of the house to rot. There were distinct differences in the two sides of the room, indicative of the tastes of separate people. You noticed something glinting in the fractured light that filtered through the cracked glass, and found it to be a large locket. You shivered as a sudden chill seemed to pass over you. 

Looking more closely, curiosity getting the better of you, you traced the elaborate design etched into the front before flipping it over to find a sweet message written into the back. 

“I will always love you, my heart.” 

As soon as you spoke the line out loud, the chill was back and stronger than before. Your finger suddenly caught onto a latch in your jolt of surprise at the sudden draft and, still curious, you twisted it as the locket slowly opened to reveal a picture on one side; a man and a woman smiling towards the camera. From the limited background, you could vaguely make out the house, new and tall with a small, carefully taken care of garden in front. It looked nothing like the ominous, vine infested, rotting nightmare you were currently in. The original owners, you had to assume, long since passed in the horrible fashion everyone knew about. 

You frowned, a sudden sadness filling you as you tried to compare the happy picture in the locket to the stories of the death and misery that soon followed. Looking back down, you noticed more writing within. 

“There is nothing I would not do for you, my heart. If you ever left I would do anything to have you back in my arms once again.” 

The chill slowly caressed your arms, as it seemed to settle and loom on your back and over your shoulder. You were shivering and terrified as a sudden voice filled your ears. 

“I meant every word when I had our locket engraved. Death and life cannot keep me from you any longer. It was so lonely waiting for you.” 

The chill moved around you, as what felt like icy fingers suddenly tilted your head up as the chill drew closer and closer. You felt frozen, unable to move as the force seemed to hold you in stasis. But the sound of a crash and the hooting and hollering of your friends below drew both you and the presence out of the predicament you had walked yourself into. The cold seemed to grow worse as the grip on your face tightened slightly, loosening only after you let out a squeak at the slight pain. 

The icy feeling drew away slightly, almost reluctantly letting you slip from its grasp. It drew closer only to lay a chilly kiss upon your forehead, its form seeming to solidify the longer it was around you. 

“Stay here and be safe. I’ll deal with the interlopers swiftly. I will be back soon.” 

The presence faded and you felt yourself able to move once again, even as the ominous promise settled into your brain. You paused for a moment, unsure on what to do before a scream rang out. The sounds of a fight reached you and you jumped into action, trying the door and finding it locked. It should open from the inside, but no matter how you rattled the knob and banged on the door, nothing budged. The screams grew and the sound of thumping and sobs started up as it seemed your friends tried to run. 

You were trapped in a room as something with the intention to return massacred your friends. So, with desperation, you turned to the cracked glass. You tore the curtain off and wrapped it around your fist, gritting your teeth as you began to punch out the glass from the warped and swollen shut frame. Finally, after a few hits the glass shattered, falling to the ground outside in a mess of shining and shimmering shards, bouncing off the awning below on the way down.

The sounds below continued though there were noticeably fewer screams filling the air. You climbed out, carefully settling onto the solid part of the awning before you, avoiding the few pieces of glass that stayed. You scooted towards the gaping hole you knew was above the porch, hoping and praying that it didn’t give out under you. You found yourself carefully falling through the hole with only the slightest twinge in your joints as you landed. You stood up, turning to see if you could help who remained only to find the door thrown open as someone desperately tried to escape. 

The chill returned, covering your friend in a fine layer of frost before it paused, finally noticing your presence. You shivered, feeling the eyes upon you once more as the voice filled the air even as your friend turned purple, gasping for air and scrabbling fruitlessly at their neck as icy marks in the form of fingers formed around it. 

“My heart, what are you doing outside? What happened to your hand? How did you get hurt? Please, come back inside, now.” 

The firmness of the tone brooked no argument, but the sound of desperate gasps followed closely by a meaty crunch as your friend’s neck was snapped right before your eyes incited your flight instincts. You bolted, only speeding up as a sudden wail filled the air. 

~~~~~ 

You had looked behind only once, seeing the fog take over a deer you had passed, stopping it in its desperate leap away. It fell over, seeming to be completely frozen solid. There was no way to fight that, so you were left to run away, heading away from wherever the fog surged forth from to follow you, nipping at you heels but never encasing you within it. 

That should have tipped you off, but adrenaline and fear left little room for thoughts other than to run from the threat following close behind. You found yourself bursting back into the small clearing you had run from only a few minutes ago, having been chased in a large loop. You looked around frantically for an escape but the line of trees encircling the clearing was filled with the fog that had frozen a deer solid. 

You had no where to run to now. The door still hung open, but the body had vanished. You stepped closer, stumbling when a hand suddenly latched onto your arm, tugging you inside as the door slammed shut behind you. You found yourself guided into what seemed to be a sun room, overlooking the overgrown garden. 

The form pressed itself close to you, now solid in a way it wasn’t just ten minutes ago. You were pressed into its lap, seeming to hover above the chair it chose to sit in as you felt yourself surrounded by the icy chill it seemed to emanate.

The voice that accompanied the bone deep chill was light, almost a whisper, even when it seemed to fill the air around you. 

“It’s not lonely anymore. I was waiting for you to return but only interlopers emerged. Visitors only harm this place, but not you, never you. I kept them away and when they refused to leave I took matters into my own hands. I kept our house safe and secure, waiting for you to return to me. And now, I’ll keep you safe from them all, just stay with me. Stay with me, my heart and I’ll never let anything happen to you again. We can rebuild our life, tend to the garden and do everything we never had the chance to do before.”

As the firm and icy arms settled on your waist, tugging you against a firm chest, as kisses began to spread along your neck and all along the various wounds that you had inflicted upon yourself in your attempt to escape, and as the feeling of hair began to tickle your cheek, the fog outside only grew thicker as the trees seemed to bend closer to the house, working with the fog to block out anything beyond the clearing and house you were now trapped within.

[tomyo]

Rewatching one piece for the first time in a literal 20 years is such a trip. You can’t place these things as a kid but there’s a surprising amount of gender equality shown and agency given to children in the original 5’s stories.

I think the thing it shows the most is that the idea either the marines or pirates are morally right and wrong isn’t set in stone and ultimately both seem to exploit the people who actually matter, the towns or common spaces of the people. Moments that hit me the most are when the tavern lady and the mayor tries to save a child Luffy after he got himself in danger or when all the townsfolk come to aid their mayor during the Buggy arc. These nameless background communities form even from the patrons of Sanji’s restaurant. Most important is there’s often a notable presence on kids in the arcs for each joining member; the little girl who feeds Zoro, Ussop’s crew, Chou Chou (just feel me with this one) and the like and it’s in part about the reflection of the creeks own childhoods being shaped by the adults who cared for them as well as determination and abandon they have and share with the straw hats.

And again I think there’s a surprising amount of points where female characters are presented alongside the male cast who are actually given depth, Kuina who was the impassible rival for Zoro, Kaya who is kind but wants to take responsibility for the safety of her town, and Nami’s sister Nojiko who tattoos herself for the sake of sharing Nami’s pain. Even with Nami’s arc somewhat needing saved by her boys, it seems important to me that she’s the last from it, having gotten to be shown as independent and reliable as the others needed saving before it was her turn. When it’s Nami’s turn to be saved it’s not because she’s the woman, it because she’s family.

To be real I’m mostly just vaguely remembering Nami’s story as I just finished Sanji’s at the time of writing to which I always feel was the most traumatic, it certainly was traumatizing to remember as a kid (how did 4kids work that out cuz I still remember the slow pain or starvation that felt even longer with airing pre streaming). What hits most important is how he and every crew member openly cry at him leaving, including his father figure. And by extension it’s great we get to see all the guy cry, not single tears or hidden shame but openly ugly sob in frustration and gratitude and sorrow. Luffy cries for Shanks, Zoro cries for Kuina, Ussop cries for his mum, and Sanji cries for Zeff. It’s not shameful or a gag, they’re just allowed to cry, to be overly attached to straw hats when they get blown away in the wind. And it’s humanizing in ways I didn’t remember I needed.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Fic Rec Friday Fun

Thank you for the tag @irispurpurea @reyesstrand @rosedavid @strandnreyes @iboatedhere @chicgeekgirl89 @catanisspicy - you're all so fantastic and I need to catch up on the ones in your lists I haven't read yet! A treat for me 🥰

So wanted to get some hiatus rec lists going and encourage some self promo in my friends so how about sharing your top fics no matter how big or small - give us the links to your wonderful words with the Most hits/Most kudos/Most comments/Most bookmarks /Most words/Least words

For me the above means it would only be split between two fics and then a third for least words, so I'm going for the next-most for comments and bookmarks.

Most Hits: When Soulmates Swim - Sparks and splashes fly when TK and Carlos each take up swimming while they recover from workplace injuries. I'm going to go ahead and say this is probably the funniest fic I've written based on feedback! There's angst of course but also TK and Carlos bring out each other's fun side and I'm so happy with it because of that.

Most Kudos: Chasers - A 3x13 coda. While TK is alone with Cooper, Carlos is alone with his thoughts. Both recall times they’ve chased the next high, other men, or each other. When Carlos arrives home, TK still has something important to say – and it's something he didn’t tell Cooper. I'm amazed and so grateful for the love on this one-shot. I loved delving into their backstories and featuring Alex who, fun fact, is based on my ex-boyfriend lol. Not me mining my most painful memories and emotions for content! ANYWAY this Cooper is in my current WIP so he'll be back soon...! Also Carlos goes for a swim and it's where the idea for the gym pool in When Soulmates Swim originated.

Most Comments: The Heart Behind the Shield - Bad Call (2x08) meets Abandoned (4x04) when TK and Carlos attempt to understand what they’ve been through and realize certain old wounds are bleeding into the new. They have both been held captive, faced death, made it home. Secrets, moods, hot messes – they love each other more every day. And they both still need their parents. I'd wanted to write a 2x08 coda for ages but couldn't figure out my angle until 4x04 came along with such blessed parallels. Like Chasers this also goes into backstory and I'm really happy with how those parts came out. Also just want to say that this has a particular scene between Carlos and Gabriel, which I'm very glad I wrote given what happens in 4x17.

Most Bookmarks: The Ruins of Wonderland - A divergence/re-imagining of Carlos and TK getting back together after their breakup. The severe winter storm doesn’t happen as forecast and Austin receives a manageable snowfall – without TK plunging into a frozen lake. Nancy’s 126 hang goes ahead. TK attends, but so does Carlos… This wasn't the first story I wrote/posted, but it's the first idea for a Tarlos fic I had and I have such a soft-spot for it. Important features: bed-breaking sex, slipper socks and a giant pretzel.

Most Words: When Soulmates Swim - 53k. The next is The Heart Behind the Shield at 34.4k. My longest one-shot is Man to Man at 14.6k.

Least Words: The Light of Our Life - 2.4k. After an awkward conversation, Carlos buys TK a bearded dragon and fears it may be a parting gift (Coda for 4x12). I took a long lunchbreak, wrote this, and posted it the same day. I've never done that before or since, and I honestly don't understand what happened to me...

I'm a little late for this so apologies if you've already done it and I haven't seen, but if not and you want to share, I'm tagging: @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @heartstringsduet @paperstorm @goodways @bonheur-cafe @lightningboltreader @chaotictarlos @theghostofashton @bubblesandroses8 @noxsoulmate @freneticfloetry @taralaurel @never-blooms @ladytessa74 @lemonlyman-dotcom ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

[unexaggerateddumbass]

I am once again going to commit a carnal sin and compare balance with the rest of the campaigns in The Adventure Zone. I know that it’s in poor taste–and, to be clear, I love the other campaigns–but their relationship to one another fascinates me.

The McElroy brothers really just haven’t done a lot of creative writing, especially not dramatic writing. What makes balance so compelling is the way that it leaned on fun tropes. It was a fantastic starting point, and since then they have been experimenting with new and more original ideas for stories. They come off as somewhat stunted and amateurish because the McElroys are amateur writers.

At its very core, balance is a very compelling execution of very compelling tropes. Anytime I try to articulate what it is that I like about balance, I find it impossible not to just sort of describe the story in terms of its tropes. “well you see, the group of oddballs is being pursued by an army of shadow monsters who destroy worlds. And their ship is propelled by the power of friendship. And the longer they get to know one another the stronger they become. And they were very good friends, practically brothers, but they lost their memories and forged their bonds all over again.” Not to mention every arc in the campaign is explicitly recycled from a movie that Griffin had watched recently, with the exception of Gerblins, which is built off a pre-built adventure book. The whole campaign bleeds tropes.

And I don’t say this to disparage balance! Every good story in this age is built on tropes. The tropes do a lot of work in balancing the fact that the McElroys were very out of their element in trying to write dramatic stories. Part of the reason that balance is 70+ hours long, double the following campaigns, is that they spent a lot of time retreating into comedy improv(their safe space). The trope that balance bleeds the most is bathos. Nearly every sincere moment, without exaggeration, is undercut by a joke. And, just to be absolutely clear, this is a strength. It was good for the McElroys to have that as a readily available crutch. Especially in this particular story, where so many characters were hiding immense pain behind carefully crafted facades. It makes the story all the more compelling, especially on second, third, and hundredth tellings. It was good for the McElroys, in their first major dramatic creative writing project, to be able to lean into comedy at all times.

And then, balance Concluded. The Mcelroys wanted to tell new stories, and, looking back, all their favorite parts of balance were the dramatic parts, not all the jokes that they had sandwiched in between. Moving forward, they abandoned their old crutch and tried to write mostly dramatic characters and scenes from the get-go. Aubrey the fire-bender who accidentally burned her own parents alive, the world of Ethersea that was cursed by the Gods and strangled itself to death, Fitzroy the ragged boy who only ever dreamed of being a knight and had the dream plucked away at the last moment. I adore these stories, but I would be lying if I tried to argue that it isn’t apparent that they were written by amateur writers. The McElroys thrust themselves into the world of dramatic writing all at once, but they only ever wrote a little bit, less than one week at a time. And, unlike most amateur writers, they didn’t have the luxury of holding off on publication or revising. The post-balance campaigns are a living record of their writing and learning process. Naturally, a lot of the work they would produce in such a project is not strictly of publishing quality.

And, to look at things from a meta-perspective, it is also natural that a significant portion of the audience would step back at this point. pre and post-balance are two very different kinds of stories. So much of the response and–to be frank– backlash to the these newest seasons stems from high expectations. The Mcelroy brothers have this huge brand and one very compelling writing project behind them already. The audience was expecting professional quality work, but that expectation is a little unearned. They were amateurs. The Adventure Zone is, and always has been, from the moment of its inception, an experiment. After completing balance and taking a massive shift of focus towards dramatic storytelling(because that was what the results of their first experiment demanded) the published product demanded a shift in audience.

Balance was a fun and tropey story spliced with very compelling moments of drama and written by amateur writers. The McElroy brothers created balance because they wanted to sit together and play dnd every other week. When they finished balance, they decided that those dramatic moments were their favorite parts. So, for their bi-monthly game of dnd, they chose to focus on writing those dramatic moments. Even though it was new to them. Even though it was uncomfortable and often cringey. Even though they had a huge audience with high expectations. Because it was fun.

[averagehomosapien]

Kraaph/Sraaph Doodles +Rant

ok, first of all, remember the au I made with the two new alters? These Tendrils Run Deep? Do you remember that??

I sure do! And I’ve been neglecting them, the poor things!😢🥺

Soooo, I have some doodles to compensate! Just of Sraaph tho (the name is a combination of Savage, Krang, and Raph)

The next doodle has it’s left eye blank, similar to Savage’s—I just wanted to see how it looked

Ok, so from here I’m just going to ramble—

Basically Sraaph is a combination of Savage and the possessed Raph from the movie.

That means that it has a lot of issues relating to being left alone—it needs to be lead and for at least one family member to be close at all times—so abandonment issues like regular Raph and Savage.

other than that, Sraaph is quiet, and obedient while in a space it seems as ‘safe’ like the Lair.

outside though, it acts more like how it did in the movie: very violent, prone to bursts of anger, extremely protective of bale, yet also still obedient to it’s bale as well—if one of its brothers were to tell it to stop, it would stop.

honestly, I have ideas for a fanfic with Sraaph and the aftermath of the movie, but the concepts and ideas my mind are coming up with are way too dark and heavy, so I’ll need to tone it down. Not only that, but I would need to do character analysis’ on EVERYONE, which is going to be a hassle.

That is not including the fact I have work to do and that life exists, so it is not likely you’ll see a fic from me anytime soon. My biggest worry would be concerning the characters—I would constantly be wondering if I wrote them correctly, and that would just drive me insane if I didn’t have a beta reader.

I would also need to be confidant in my writing enough to release something; I do love writing, but 1) I only write original stories with my own characters and 2) I’ve never written a fanfic before 😅 Being me, I would also constantly compare my writing to those with great stories—like @debb987 and The Eldest Brother, among others. I know realistically that every skill requires practice and patience, but I am a very lazy and impatient person. Ok, so to summarize: I have an idea I want to write, but don’t have the time nor the patience to write it—at least, it wouldn’t come out anytime soon.

I am also more concerned with at least finishing/giving a satisfying end to Pools of Acceptance, as well as making art. I have many ideas for future projects and gifts to other creators on Tumblr, so look out for that! Too many ideas and too much work(which is honestly my fault because procrastination has me in a chokehold at all times)

on a lighter note, I just want to say thank you to all that like, comment, and reblog my posts! I hoped I would get support eventually, but I never thought it would come so fast, nor that there would be so many of you who liked my art! I’m just greatly appreciative that you all gave me a chance and decided to stay!! I now have more followers than I do posts and i will do something big to commemorate 100 followers! Just know that all of your support gives me the motivation to continue what I’m doing—each and every one of you helps motivate me!

And a final note—I said back in chapter 3 that you would know who hurt baby Raph soon…

uhhhh, honestly the plot is dragging me I have no control over it; basically it might be a while until you guys get confirmation of what hurt baby Raph, so whoops!😬 😅 I’m just having fun with this whole thing! Might take a few chapters till you meet the attacker (doesn’t that sound harsh?) but it might be in the next hmmm…10 chapters?? Like I said, i have no control over the plot and no plan.

Anyway, this post is long enough, so have a great evening/night/day!! See y’a peeps on the weekend!