#this indeed was written for me

[rooftopdaigos]

my unfiltered reaction to LJ's finale

[ley-med]

I had a week long vacation not long ago, so I finally have enough energy to talk to non-medical friends once again. And I just realized once again, I'm not sure how to talk to them.

They tell me all the things they participated in, and I'm truly happy for them, all the while thinking I would never have half that much energy. They ask me how I am, I tell them I'm good, finally had a vacation. What did I do? Oh, literally nothing, tried to sleep off the worst of the exhaustion and tried to avoid interaction with other humans. How's work? You know, just the usual, it's good. It is good, and I love it, but how could I tell them all the horrors witnessed? That's right I don't, but what else do I have left to talk about? Most of my fun work stories are tainted with the shadows of tragedies... And unfortunately, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

So I just read their cheerful message and leave it on read, contemplating what to answer. And just hope they won't take offence to my agonizingly slow replies...

[thirteenemeraldcats]

in one of your tags you mentioned-

'one of the things that gets chatted about A LOT in teaching is meeting students at their point of need- which ted does NOT do with jamie'

I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this! Both in terms of what that concept entails, and also what you think Jamie's point of need was at the time versus what Ted saw the situation needing

(You have excellent tags btw, don't know if anyone's mentioned that)

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS THAT I LOVE THAT YOU'D LOVE TO HEAR!

(I have more thoughts than I anticipated, this got errr, long. Whoops)

(potentially necessary/relevant background here is I am a high school teacher 👋)

Okie dokie, so, one of the principles of best practice in teaching is the idea I tag-rambled above; meet both the individual students and collective class at their point of need. Essentially this means practising differentiation in teaching and adjusting how content/ideas are communicated to students based on who they are as learners and people. Particularly if a student is performing outside the 'average' (either exceeding or still developing), this means adjusting to their needs by (among other things) curating differentiated resources and adapting delivery style. Differentiation is especially important in an all-abilities classroom, unfortunately public education is perpetually underfunded and overcrowded so everyone's just out here doing their best (the decent people of the world at least). BUT! WHILE I'M ON IT! SPEAKING OF THE THINGS I'VE TAG RAMBLED, the education system's (global) inability to adequately differentiate for students of different-abilities, particularly students with ADHD, ASD and Dyslexia, is perhaps the greatest failing of the whole dang thing and if anyone who ever stumbles across this is neuro-divergent and feels like they were a bad student or couldn't 'keep up' in mainstream education- THAT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. You don't have to break yourself to 'fit', school is MEANT to bend for you. (Particularly when you're young, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG)

ANYWAY, the fictional football of it all!

We don't see a lot of Ted actually coaching in this show (stick with me). The scenes in which he 'coaches' are typically him and various other coaching staff standing on the sidelines while the team skirmishes or occasionally runs drills, so me saying Ted doesn't differentiate is more based around his patented Ted-talks. NOW, Ted PROBABLY knows the team fairly well as individuals, particularly in season 2 and 3, purely by having spent quite a lot of time with them, despite this the only times we really see him 'adjust' his style with the team are ironically season 1 (examples include conferencing Jamie and Roy in 1x04 For The Children, and allowing/facilitating Nate's speech in 1x07 Make Rebecca Great Again). The moment that always sticks out to me as most significant is when he goes and seeks out Keeley's advice on how to get through to Jamie in 1x02 Biscuits.

Side note: I will be forever obsessed with Keeley jumping straight from 'blowjobs' to one of the four operant conditioning techniques (positive reinforcement) when asked about this. That woman is a very fascinating puzzle of a person.

Ted recognises that his typical perpetual-optimism-style isn't cracking the Jamie-Tartt-nut and seeks out a different opinion. This kind of collaboration and whole-system approach is key in teaching too, either by tapping the knowledge-well of a student's broader school context or the difficult-to-crack student's parents.

SO, having gotten the Jamie-Tartt-cheat-code from Keeley he DOES meet Jamie at his point of need, speaks clearly to him and communicates what he needs from him. AND IT WORKS! Temporarily! During the conversation between the two in Ted's office we see Jamie engage, he even practises self-reflection! Granted it's about his left foot cross, but still! The nut is cracked.

Jamie even maintains the perspective Ted has taught him for about two seconds while talking to Trent, until Jamie's other (definitely not positively-reinforced) behaviours rear up and he reverts to what James others have taught him.

On the other hand.

Multiple times throughout the show we see Jamie be visibly or verbally confused by Ted's communication style. Ted often talks in meandering metaphors that Jamie doesn't seem to be able to follow. We verbally hear him state 'Why doesn't he just say that then, do you know what I mean?' in 2x07 Headspace after Beard has to translate Ted's 'peas and carrots/beefchunks' analogy to 'starters and reserves'. Then there's the infamous 'What the fuck are Denver Broncos?' from 3x09 La Locker Room Aux Folles. The only notable time we really see Jamie 'get' one of these metaphors is the sewer-system-tunnels from 3x01 Smells Like Mean Spirit.

(His understanding of that specific metaphor, along with his use of the magnets to demonstrate total football in 3x07 The Strings That Bind, and a Watsonian-perspective of his near perfect mimicry of movements he saw two years ago when executing the decoy play in 3x12 So Long, Farewell, are actually all examples I use to head-canon Jamie as a primarily visual/physical based learner. For whatever that's worth!)

NOW! Ted's willingness to seek and apply alternate techniques in season 1 when he should know the team as both individuals and a collective the least, coupled with his inability or unwillingness to practise differentiation in later seasons when he DOES KNOW THEM is why I don't think Ted is meeting the team, specifically Jamie at their/his point of need. Any person's ability to differentiate behaviour to meet the needs/requirements/comforts of the individual or group they're talking to is increased the more they know them. (We all do this in life, consciously or subconsciously we typically try and 'match the vibe' of whoever we're communicating with [doubly so for people who're engaging in masking.])

Ted should and does learn more about Jamie as a person and his background as the show progresses. He listens to Jamie vocalise both his internal justifications for his actions and his reflections of those justifications/actions in 1x06 Two Aces, he sees him being explicitly physically abused in 1x10 The Hope That Kills You, he listens to him describe a spiralling mindset in 2x02 Lavender, he sees him being explicitly verbally abused in 2x08 Man City.

Of course, one of the fascinating things about Jamie is how much he learns and grows over the course of the show, and there are instances in which I don't think Ted is recognising that (primarily his dismissal of Jamie in 3x03 4-5-1 and not utilising Jamie's knowledge of total football as a resource from the beginning in 3x07 The Strings That Bind).

Ted understands and has previously applied Jamie responding well to positive reinforcement, yet at multiple times in the series doesn't respond in a way that reflects his perspective being informed by that knowledge. Essentially not practising the appropriate level of care/caution when interacting with/around Jamie.

There's not intervening on Jamie's behalf in 2x03 Do the Right-est Thing or 2x06 The Signal when the team and Roy are targeting or ignoring him respectively. The assumed absence of any follow up to the events of 2x08 Man City, the Zava of it all in season 3, and of course the eternal 'forgiveness' kicker from 3x11 Mom City.

POINT BEING. And to actually answer your inquiry lol, I think Jamie is someone who needs clear communication, ideally bracketed in positive reinforcement based operant conditioning as a learning technique (reward behaviour you want reinforced by offering something desirable [praise in Jamie's case]) and visual/physical aid/references for concepts; as a LEARNER.

AS A PERSON, there's more. Ted can readily infer from all he's heard and seen that Jamie's a victim of child abuse. The long term damage to the adult psyche that abuse during formative years has is astronomical, it literally changes the foundational structures of a person's brain. And yet, again, we never see Ted even acknowledge this. Jamie in 3x11 Mom City, incidentally compares his father to Freddy Krueger, Ted elaborates on the comparison, then Jamie reiterates that Freddy Krueger's 'fucking terrifying'. Ted doesn't reassure Jamie (the requirement of his point of need), he gives him a Ted-talk (and in doing so doesn't differentiate his perspective/communication technique).

As far as what Ted thought the situation needed... search me I've got no idea. I do think Ted projects onto Jamie a hell of a lot. That he gets Jamie's personhood and life experiences all tangled up in the emotions he has about his father's death and his consequent perceived abandonment, his insecurities about his own ability to parent Henry and even in his own inability to clearly communicate with his mother. I do think Ted relies on his own forced optimism to 'get by'. Like how a great white shark dies if it stops swimming, if Ted stops being 'Ted', if he stops swimming, his past and his fears and his feelings will catch up to him and swallow him whole. (For what it's worth, I do think Ted is more unwell than even the show explicitly tells us, much like Jamie experiencing ongoing trauma due to childhood abuse, the effects both short-term and long-term as well as potential causalities of having a parent die by suicide are... grim.)

(Essentially the entire fandom has talked about basically all of this at one point or another, I'm just using slightly different language.)

NOW! These characters are fictional (obviously) and I am judging them based on real-people conventions and the best-principles of my own profession, as well as my background in theoretical psychology (which I think I forgot to mention and is also probably [??] relevant). My Doylist-perspective of Ted and his coaching/communication style is ...kinder, but if I get too sucked into the narrative it results in either brief tag-rambles or... whatever this thing I've just typed is. I think it's been too long since I've written academically, my thoughts have gone circular 🫠

ANYWAY! I hope this made something-approaching sense! Thank you again for asking to hear my thoughts! Always happy to word vomit!

ALSO, thank you for saying my tags are excellent (you are the first and currently only to say so!) - The tags are where I send my thoughts to die (in a 'I must banish them to move on' kind of way rather than a 'I'm strangling them' kind of way) so you saying they're excellent is even MORE flattering than you realise! Makes my brain want to purr 💚🤣

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

I am. Wildly uncomfortable with JGY gaslighting Qin Su in that one scene. Props to MXTX for writing it so well because I've read it countless times already but it always makes me sick

He goes through a cycle of psychological abuse strategies that range from "im the victim" to "you'll be the one everyone will point and laugh at"

Here are some examples:

"You're hurting me"

Jin Guangyao sighed. "A-Su, you're the one who told me to say those words, but when I say them, you refuse to believe me. That makes it really difficult for me."

"You're being ungrateful."

"I know I've treated you very well as a husband, so your behavior right now genuinely hurts me."

"It's not a big deal." And "It's all in your head"

"A-Su, weren't we doing just fine before you learned about this?" Jin Guangyao reasoned. "Today, the day you found out, is the only day you've felt such nausea, and it's only because the knowledge troubles you. Which goes to show that it doesn't really matter. It didn't substantially affect you in any other way. It's just your own mind causing you grief."

"You're exaggerating"

Jin Guangyao seemed tired. "A-Su, what are you thinking? A-Song was my son. What do you think I would do? You would rather trust someone who hides their head and tail, a letter of unknown origins, than me?"

"It's all in your head."

"Stop letting your mind run wild." Jin Guangyao pleaded. "Tell me, who did you see today? And who gave you this letter?"

"You're the one people will ostracize most"

"If that person can tell you, they can tell others. If they can write one letter, they can write a second, a third. What are you going to do? Let this be exposed? (...)"

"It was for your own good"

Jin Guangyao's eyes were filled with grief-stricken tenderness "A-Su, I really had no other choice. I wanted to lie to you for the rest of your life, to keep you in the dark, but that hope has been thoroughly dashed by the one who told you this today. You think me filthy, you think me disgusting, that's fine. But if this goes out - you are my wife, what would others say? What would they think of you?"

[suburbanbonfire]

hide n seek (self portrait)

[underlockv]

Interestingly enough I think calling large language models a.i. is doing too much to humanize them. Because of how scifi literature has built up a.i. as living beings with actual working thought processes deserving of the classification of person (bicentennial man etc) a lot of people want to view a.i. as entities. And corporations pushing a.i. can take advantage of your soft feelings toward it like that. But LLMs are nowhere close to that, and tbh I don't even feel the way they learn approaches it. Word order guessing machines can logic the way to a regular sounding sentence but thats not anything approaching having a conversation with a person. Remembering what you said is just storing the information you are typing into it, its not any kind of indication of existence. And yet, so many people online are acting like when my grandma was convinced siri was actually a lady living in her phone. I think we need to start calling Large Language Models "LLMs" and not giving the corps pushing them more of an in with the general public. Its marketing spin, stop falling for it.

[poplarste]

uhhhhhh that tiktok (thanks @peter-pantomime, hope you don’t mind the tag) that points out that Eddie coulda zipped up his leather jacket and tac vest combo and maybe not been eaten by bats, but it’s Eddie saying “Steve? [significant pause] Make him pay” and Steve taking a step forward to zip up his jacket and saying something cheesy

...upon reflection i didn’t think i was actually going to sit here and write this all in one go but lo and behold i’m supposed to be working on an article shhhh

further update: this is now on ao3 Something crosses Steve’s face when Eddie points out that he and Dustin are nooooooot heroes, but Eddie ignores it in favor of indulging himself, just for a second, watching the set of the three heroes’ shoulders as they move toward Creel House.

“Hey, Steve?” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself, some unchained impulse to at least let Steve know Eddie respects the fuck out of him now, just in case they both die.

The real heroes turn back, waiting.

“Make him pay.”

Steve retreads those last few steps, back over to Eddie and Dustin, claps a hand to Eddie’s leather-clad shoulder, the sound of it drowned out by sickening red thunder. He leaves his hand there, too, and Eddie’s confusion is only silenced by the thudding of his heart when Steve’s free hand comes up to his chest.

He tugs at the teeth of Eddie’s War Zone vest, real live actual tactical armor to replace the battle vest that Steve’s still got over his fresh War Zone shirt and under his fresh War Zone jacket, for reasons Eddie doesn’t have the brain power to contemplate. It doesn’t seem at all like him -- they’ve been all tense and snarky at each other (and Eddie supposes he gets why) since he’d pinned Steve to that boathouse wall and held glass to his throat. That felt like a lifetime ago, though. They’d been different people then, or at least, Eddie thought maybe he had been.

“You should zip up,” he tells Eddie, like he’s actually saying something else. “You’ll catch your death.”

Eddie does not catch his death, though the blood under Dustin’s fingernails from keeping pressure on his neck loudly proclaims just how close they came. He knows it’s just luck that he didn’t bleed out anyway -- a couple inches toward his chin and he’d be just as mangled as the poor, brave vest Robin had insisted on confiscating for cremation later -- but now that the anesthetic has worn off and the fever has gone and the fresh stitches in his face and neck start to itch like a lot, actually, it occurs to him that if Steve Harrington hadn’t taken that one moment of absolute character-breaking insanity, Eddie’d have been ripped apart. Bled out, there on the rocky ground of the Upside Down, probably all over Dustin since the little shit had come after him anyway.

Fucking kid. Eddie loves him so goddamn much.

But back to Steve, and his incomprehensibly tender moment in the middle of the apocalypse.

Once they were all patched up and cleared and definitely not rabid, thank you Robin, they’d been released. Free to go. Nary an NDA in sight, just a withering look from Agent Stinson and an edict to just “please, for the love of God lay low until we sort this out.”

Cool, as far as Eddie’s concerned. He’s too busy not scratching at his stitches and reeling over Steve inadvertently saving his life. Eventually, he can’t resist the urge. The line rings and he fidgets with the cord.

“Robin,” says the voice after the ringing ends, no greeting at all. “For the last time, I’m not rabid, none of the blood tests showed any scary Upside Down shit, everything is --”

“Steve.”

Steve stops on the other end. Which is fair, really, since Eddie’s literally never called him on anything that’s not a walkie talkie before, and that was mostly incidental. “Eddie. What’s going on, man?”

The edge in his voice is subtle, enough to dismiss and make the question either casual or an alarm bell, but Eddie doesn’t miss it. He just gets to the point, and Steve-on-the-other-end can do with it what he will. Eddie’s not his mom. But Wayne raised him right even if the rest of Hawkins doesn’t think so, so he’s gotta say something. “You know you saved my life, right? The jacket thing. Down in... Before we split the party.”

“What?”

“You told me to zip up my jacket, and the vest,” Eddie insists. “I’d have been chewed up like a cheap dog bone if you hadn’t. I just. Thanks, man.”

Steve’s quiet on his end of the line. At first, Eddie thinks maybe he’s just stunned that The Freak has any manners, but as the silence stretches on, he begins to wonder if actually the line’s been cut or something.

“Steve? Buddy? Steeeeeeeve,” he croons into the phone. “You OD on pain meds over there or something?” Steve, having been significantly more chewed up and run around on it far longer than Eddie, had been stuck in the hospital for several days with a high-grade fever, after all was said and done and Vecna was burnt up to a crisp. None of it had seemed particularly Upside-Down-y, just regular exhaustion, dehydration, and good old rampant infection, but once he’d been released, Eddie had it on good authority that he was a champ about taking antibiotics and an absolute nightmare about taking the pain pills they’d given him for all of the…everything on his back, arms, and sides.

There’s a strangled noise from down the phone line, and Eddie wonders if the phone actually is fucked. Before he can ask, though –

“Guess I did, huh?” Steve’s voice is soft. “Don’t mention it.”

Eddie scoffs a little, playful but casual. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to think about it much, either.” Steve actually does let out a chuckle at that, and Eddie grins, since there’s no chance of anyone seeing and calling him on it. What, then, is the harm? It’s just a little hero crush. “Hey, I’ll let you go, man. See you around, when Buckley lets you rejoin society.”

Steve groans just a little at that. “Yeah. Robin.”

“Robin,” Eddie agrees. “Later, Steve.”

And then Steve’s voice is all soft again, like it was when Eddie thanked him, like it was when he told Eddie to zip up his vest, and now – “Yeah. Later, Eddie.” There’s a lingering silence on the line, like Steve’s waiting in case Eddie has more to say.

Eddie hangs up first, and resolutely doesn’t think about it.

Who doesn’t get crushes on heroes, anyway.

[pencap]

Hi! I love your work, and it's wonderful to hear you might start writing poetry again. I hope it goes well, and please be kind on yourself ❤️

For the three words: silver, fall, power.

No pressure and feel free to ignore this entirely! I just wanted to tell you that it's great to see you around again.

Thank you for the kind words, love! It's wonderful to be back and be met with so much love. Please know that your support is infinitely encouraging and infinitely appreciated.

My darling, for you I wish to be silver like the full moon dancing on silent feet silver like the first sleepy snowfall of winter silver like constellations shimmering in a peaceful night. You deserve a soft-spoken silver as shining and carefree as bellchimes. But darling, all I know how to be is silver like a sniper's scope staring from the rooftop silver like spikes of hoarfrost glinting on barbed wire silver like starfall crashing down in a shattered sky. I am made to be a sharp-edged silver as powerful and deadly as bladesteel. I ache that I cannot be a lullaby singing you to sleep. I weep that I cannot be a flashlight in your darkest night. I mourn that I cannot be a diamond ring on your finger. But I will be the sentry standing guard at your doorstep. I will be the smooth tongue to lay your enemies bare. I will be the chainmail wrapped around your softest spots. And darling, perhaps if you are so very kind if the world is so very forgiving if my fate is so very lucky-- Then perhaps, my dearest darling, that can be enough.

[lonesomedreamer]

@death-by-mercury

Ethan Peck, grandson of...

...the incomparable Gregory Peck.

[memento-morri-writes]

writing share - body horror edition

So, the lovely, amazing @space-writes expressed interest in reading my fucked-up body horror that I wrote last night/early this morning, and who am I to deny a friend? So, here you go:

A brief bit of context: Just under two days ago, Sigmar, Rook's beloved mentor and kinda-sorta father figure, ended up being revealed as a corpse being puppeted by the BBEG, Dr. Purity. The rest of the party brutally killed him while Rook watched. (Via tooth and claw, and also a sonic shockwave from a magic guitar.) And just today, Warren, the party gunslinger, a werewolf and Rook's other kinda-sorta father figure, died (like perma-forever, never-coming-back died) in order to save Rook's life. (Or rather, in order to resurrect Rook, since he was dead at the time.) Now Rook is extremely sleep-deprived and also being affected by mind-altering parasites, two factors that are working together to give him some pretty vivid and fucked-up hallucinations.

(fair warning, this isn't written out fully to the best of my abilities because this scene hasn't happened yet. So this is just my description of what Rook will be seeing and hearing, not a full prose write-up with his internal thoughts and all that. I will almost certainly do that after next week's session, though, so let me know if you want to see that then.)

major tw for extreme body horror under the cut (also emotional manipulation/guilt-tripping)

Rook hears a strange sound, like clumsy, disjointed footsteps. He looks around wildly for the source of the sound and freezes. Out of the hallway we have just come from looms a horrible sight: Sigmar's corpse is lurching towards him, somehow propelling itself on shattered limbs. All of his joints are dislocated, giving his body a freakishly elongated appearance. His shredded clothes are soaked with blood, and every inch of his skin is covered in hundreds of claw and tooth marks, which are weeping blood. Black ichor drips from his mouth, and a web of dark black veins branch out across his face. Every inch he moves closer leaves a trail of blood behind him. He reaches out towards Rook with jagged, broken fingers, and says "Rook... your friends killed me. Slaughtered me like an animal." He takes another staggering step towards Rook, who backs away, shaking. "You promised to help me. You said you trusted me." He points an accusing finger at Rook. "I should never have come to you. I should have burned down Warren's house with you still inside. It's what the two of your deserve." As if on cue, another shape lurches out of the shadows of a hallway across the way. It's Warren. His chest has been blown open, his ribs pointing in every direction and the remains of his guts are dripping from the hole where his stomach used to be. Every inch of him is splattered in gore. He's missing one of his hands, the arm ending in a jagged point of bone instead. He opens his mouth to speak, revealing a mouth of pointed canine teeth. "Rook, you stupid bastard. I died for you. You." He bares his teeth and snarls at Rook, an animalistic sound that rattles him to his core. "We should have left you to rot in that fungi-infested hallway. You brought him to us," he glares pointedly at Sigmar. "You're the reason those two attacked us, attacked Cherry. You're the reason I'm dead. The reason Cherry won't ever have a father." Sigmar steps closer, looking Rook up and down. "Speaking of fathers, yours was right. You are a useless piece of shit." He spits in Rook's direction, then takes another step closer. Across the room, Warren moves to match him. "Traitor." "Liar," Sigmar adds as the two stalk closer. They're so close now, Rook can smell the scent of Warren's burnt flesh, of Sigmar's spilled blood. They're right in front of him now. He tries to shrink away, further into the corner, but to no avail. His limbs refuse to obey, and he stays frozen in place.

[secrettastemakerland]

why is every song about colin bridgerton

[papayasnz]

F/ukuchi practicing inducing when he’s alone in his office for the sake of his S/O who has the kink.

(So so so in love with him omg omg omg BARK BARK WOOF WOOF GRR GRR ARF AWOOGA slobbering all over myself and the floor smiling so hard my cheeks go past my ears on all fours like the rake creature running to capture him)

Really short. Just a drabble tbh but I want to write something so I wrote something.

Fukuchi sighs as he toys with the soft, large feather between his gloved fingers. He briefly wonders if it’ll even work.

Won’t know unless he tries though, right?

He hopes it will. If just to see them squirm with that beautiful pink flush across their cheeks, as they mewl and eye him with that lustful look.

He loved making them happy. But making them horny… from such a simple thing? Fukuchi would be lying if he said that it didn’t make him feel some type of way too, to so easily turn his love into a mess.

“Hm… well, here goes nothing.”

He starts by slowly and gently teasing the outside of his nostrils. It feels good, like the soft touch of someone’s hair when you nuzzle into them.

His breath hitches quietly, but only once. It’s not enough. So he goes a little deeper. The barbs of the feather entering his nose, brushing against the inside of his nostrils.

“hEH-!… ahh.. d-damn.” Fukuchi didn’t expect that sort of sensation. The feeling of forcibly tickling his nose was strange, different from when it happens naturally.

He twirls the feather a bit around, causing another hitch of his breath. One eye squeezing shut as the muscles on his face twitch and contract from the feather.

“Mmngh… hihh..! g-god just come out.” He pleads softly, it tickles a lot but just barely not enough.

A small, frustrated huff leaves his chest. Fukuchi pushes the soft barbs of the feather deeper into his nose, moving it around, hoping to find the spot.

And find it, he does.

His whole face tingles with the sudden intense tickle. Head tilted back, eyes half lidded with a faraway look as his jaw goes slack. Nostrils flaring around the feather.

With one last twirl of the feather, he feels like he’s been tipped over the edge, finally. Fukuchi pulls it out with a shaky hand. His whole upper body pitching forward with so much force he nearly hits his head on the desk lamp.

“hiih-eH!.. hh’RSSSHHHhheuw!”

Fukuchi felt his abs strain against that one. He groans a little from the satisfaction of finally getting it out. He opens his now slightly teary eyes to see the paperwork he was supposed to be doing covered in a very, very light sheen of mist.

Oh well. At least he knows it will work now. His love will go feral for that, he’s sure. Fukuchi can’t help the smug grin that spreads across his lips. He’s going to have fun being the one to tease them for a change.

[baronessblixen]

Oh sorry 😂 I remember you wrote a one shot with a breakup and they have baby will and scully is seeing some dude. It was kind of a cliffhanger

I DID?! Anon, I love you, how do you remember my stories better than I do?

Are you sure it was me?

Okay, this sounds insane, but do you or anyone know where this story is?

[rawliverandgoronspice]

.

[personal and vaguely unnecessary whining underneath, just a bunch of undigisted and personal thoughts about my problems with Creation and Art that mostly just concern myself, but here they are anyway woooo!!!!]

feeling some kind of way about having to concede my artistic calling truly is in fanwork, but, yeah. all of my creative energy really tends towards fanwork, and like. not even the popular kind really, but the long, cerebral, pretentious kind of fanwork that is impossibly costly to produce yet comes with an inherently very limited audience at the end of the road. but every time I try to do something else, something "original", I get frustrated and I feel like I have nothing to say, or that what I have to say isn't really worth saying/that I'm only kind of doing this out of fear of being perceived as illegitimate rather than because of actual passion. I have original ideas, but I don't even really like most of them. it's weird, to have your inner creative fire being so intricately connected to something you will never have legal control over, something you can't really show off/take actual pride in, and something that is, by and large, decried as a waste of talent or time or proper artistic merit.

but yeah, it's the shape of my brain. it's what it is. I'm just not sure how to connect this reality to the rest of my creative/career frustrations. weird place to be, don't love that my brain chose to be like this honestly.

[alleyskywalker]

Granted, I have not read the books, so I cannot judge it as an adaptation; I've heard tons of changes were made, but not sure how the book fandom feels about them… But having watched like a season and a half of IWTV, I'm ready to call it: HOTD is a mess of a soap opera in comparison.

[lateseptemberdawn]

WHO COULD EVER LEAVE ME DARLING BUT WHO COULD EVER STAY