#I’m getting better at projecting and talking to them and while that’s lovely in itself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miuszn · 1 year

Note

HII!! i love your writing sm, so i wanted to send in a request. I KNOW THIS IS SO CLICHÉ AND OVERDONE 😭😭 BUT could you possibly write a seven minutes in heaven scenario with ellie or abby. maybe reader n ellie/abby don’t really like each other, or they have tension ?? idk

seven minutes

SETTING : college / modern au

WC : 3120

WARNINGS : not beta read , fingering , cunnilingus ( r!recieving both ) , kinda vanilla again ( sorry ) , top!ellie , one-sided rivalry , intentional lowercase , this might kinda seem like dubcon but it’s not reader is just shy , english isn’t my first language and i’m not perfectly fluent so there might be mistakes ( lmk if there’s any )

A / N : hii everyone !! aaa im so glad i finally finished this 😭😭 i love these corny cliche scenarios soooo much but only when it’s w women otherwise it’s just so bleh . women do everything better so true !! anywhooo i hope u guys enjoy this and tysm for requesting this bc i wanted to write something like this but didnt think anyone would want it .. ALSO IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO INCLUDE ABBY WHEN I STARTED WRITING BC I SAVED THE ASK TO DRAFTS TO KEEP IT THERE N ONLY NOTICED NOW JFJDHDKDJ pls forgive me .. ill include ellie & abby tension over reader in the future i promise 🙏🙏

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“dina, i’m not going.”

you had no idea how many times you told her this, but you weren’t planning on changing your mind. you had gone to a few parties here and there, sure, but it wasn’t really your thing. you enjoyed going to them every once in a while to go out and loosen up, get your mind off of stress, but that was it. you weren't particularly crazy about it at the same level of other people your age, not even as much as dina, who’s considered a more casual partygoer. you had given her some excuse about having a project to work on, but the truth was, that wasn’t your concern. in fact, you didn’t have a project to work on at all. you made it all up. you even considered going to that party when dina first told you about it, but a few days later you overheard some classmates talk about how ellie williams out of all people would be going.

ellie ellie ellie. she drive you nuts for all the wrong reasons. you could tell she disliked you from the start, which that in itself made you dislike her as well. you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to anger her. but your dislike for her only grew when you realized just how irresponsible she was. she slept in, often came hungover to class, and yet she still scored the highest. even higher than you. and that really set you off. you had been an overachiever all your life, and all of a sudden some loser who doesn’t even put any effort into anything is beating you at everything. but most of all, it intrigued you a little more than it did anger you. you wished you could take a peek into her brain and see how the hell she managed to do it. your first thought was she copied answers off of people. seemed the most logical, right? but she was scoring the highest. how the hell could she score higher than anyone that she could even copy off of? hell, she even answered open-ended questions more detailed and well-written than you did. it didn’t make any sense. that’s the worst part of it all. you couldn’t even come up with a logical explanation as to how she could even do this.

little did you know, though, she was completely aware of your one-sided rivalry, and she found it adorable. she never tried to compete with you, but she thought it was hilarious watching you try so hard to compete with her. the first time she saw you, she was immediately drawn to you. your spotless image, valedictorian from your high school who had a perfect gpa and perfect test scores. you were perfect. but she wanted to see you crack. she wanted to see what was under all those layers (both figuratively and literally) and see what you were truly like. she knew you seeing her put in no effort into school yet still doing better than you would anger you. that’s exactly what she wanted. sure, she was in a way getting you to hate her, but it was a risk she was willing to take just to get a reaction out of you. and little did you know, you were attracted to her. and she was aware.

“come on, i don’t know why you’re acting like this all of a sudden,” dina whined. “you said you’d come along when i first told you about it.”

“i said i’d think about it,” you corrected her. “i’m just not really feeling it. besides i already told you i have this project to work on.”

“what’s it for?”

“it’s, uh..” you tried to come up with a lie on the spot. “it’s for calculus.”

“no way, we have a project in that class?” she asked, surprised, “i can’t believe i had no idea! when is it due?”

shit. you forgot you had that class with her.

“it’s for tomorrow, i think..” you kept going along with your lie.

“bullshit,” she laughed, “if we really had a project due tomorrow you would already have it done. and there’s no way i’d miss a project for that class!”

“fine,” you sighed, “i just needed an excuse so you’d leave me alone. but i really don’t want to go.”

“nope, because you lied you have to come.”

“why?!”

“because it’s fair!” she said, “besides, you definitely owe me one for going to that stupid concert with you the other day.”

you rolled your eyes. “you said you enjoyed it.”

“yeah, well, i lied. do you seriously think i’d ever like-“

“alright that’s enough!” you sighed. “i’ll go. but we are leaving early that night”

“deal.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

“dinaaa, hurry up!” you knocked on the bathroom door. the main downside of sharing an apartment with your best friend was the fact she took forever to get out of the bathroom. you both decided it would be a good idea, you found a nice complex near campus and the rent was almost the same as a dorm room, so it was a no-brainer.

“five minutes!” she yelled back. five minutes my ass, you thought. at least this time you thought ahead of time and got in there before her. your outfit wasn’t anything fancy, of course, but you still wanted to dress cute. you had a black tube mini-skirt and white baby tee, just something you threw on that was comfortable but still looked alright. you had struggled a little to decide what to wear, you didn’t want to stand out too much but you still for some reason wanted to impress ellie deep down. you just brushed this off as an unwanted thought and ignored it, but it continued to linger in your mind. why do i even care what she thinks of me? you asked yourself.

about fifteen minutes later, dina finally came out of the bathroom.

“you said five”

“well, i still look good, don’t i?” she jokingly posed.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. let’s get going.”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

if there was one thing you could absolutely not stand about house parties, it was the stench inside the house. god was it awful. half of these people were frat boys who didn’t know what deodorant was and had been sweaty all night, and all this mixed with the smell of alcohol just made matters worse. most of the people were inside the house enjoying the music and the drinks, but you simply hung outside with dina chatting while drinking out of those cliche red cups you see in movies. you really couldn’t wait to get out of there, but yet again, that little voice in the back of your head made you think about ellie. you thought it was good you didn’t see her, but at the same time, you wanted to see her. it was a strange feeling. you couldn’t tell if it was curiosity, intrusive thoughts, or attraction. whatever it was, there was no way it was the last option.

about an hour passed and you were starting to get bored. just as you were about to suggest to dina you leave, a group of 8-ish people came out of the house to the backyard. among them was ellie. the moment you saw her you realized just how attractive she is. you had never looked at her enough to tell, but now it was evident. now you were even more confused. but you simply told yourself you can think she’s attractive and not be attracted to her.

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize one of the guys was talking to you and dina had to hit you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“is this chick high or something?” one of them laughed.

“uh- no- sorry. just kinda pensive.” you tried your hardest to avoid eye contact with ellie, and luckily this time you managed to do so. it just would’ve made things way more awkward.

“anyway-“ one of the guys started. “we were thinking since none of us wanna be with those people inside the house, we could just do something else to have fun.”

“what’re you thinking?” dina asked.

“7 minutes in heaven.”

you and dina were both a little stunned. you would’ve thought about some other thing, but you decided to go along with it anyway. not like anything could go wrong.

you all sat in a circle, and one of them began explaining the rules.

“simple, you spin the bottle, whoever it lands on, you have to go in the shed for 7 minutes and do any romantic or sexual act. kissing, making out, having sex even. but there has to be some proof you did something. if you didn’t do anything in the 7 minutes or refused to do anything in the first place, you take a shot. everyone got it?”

everyone nodded, and the game began. most people took a shot, about half an hour of the game went by and not a single person had gone into the shed. you landed on a few of the guys and vice versa, and while most of them were totally down to go in the shed with you, you most definitely weren’t. you weren’t sure if it was just you imagining things, but you felt you saw the slightest bit of anger and jealousy in ellie’s eyes anytime the bottle landed on you and the guys wanted to go in the shed with you, and she was relieved any time you took a shot. you found it strange. why did it matter to her? but you were sure you were just making things up.

you were starting to feel more and more tipsy from the drinks, standing on the line between drunk and sober. you were self-aware enough to tell yourself to not have any more drinks. one more spin, you told yourself. that was it. you spun the bottle, and surprise surprise, it landed on none other than ellie herself.

there was an awkward silence for a moment. you didn’t know what to do. it would be super awkward if either one of you accepted and the other declined.

one of the guys broke the silence first. “sooo.. are y’all going in the shed or not?”

“depends on her.” ellie smirked.

your face got a little hot. a soft red tinted your cheeks and you nodded, accepting in the heat of the moment. you were sure it was just your drunk mind making the decisions for you, but it wasn’t. you were very aware of the decision you had just made. but it hadn’t hit you yet. not until she walked behind you into the shed and shut the door.

“didn’t think you were into me like that,” ellie broke the silence. “i always thought you hated me or somethin’.”

you didn’t really know what to say. you mumbled some nonsense trying to come up with something fast.

“do i make you nervous?” she asked.

“sort of..” you were able to respond.

“ohh, i see,” she interrupted. “you just pretended to hate me for whatever reason.”

“no!” you protested. “i wasn’t pretending- i mean, i don’t hate you, it’s just. ugh.”

you gave up on trying to explain yourself when you realized just how childish and irrational you acted. seriously, disliking someone for outperforming you at your big age? the more you thought about it, the more embarassed you were about it. was it the alcohol doing this to you? it was all so confusing.

“why’d you accept to come into the shed with me?”

you didn’t respond, just shrugged. you didn’t know. you must’ve woken up on the wrong side of bed or something. you were acting very irrational today, and it’s like someone else was making decisions for you.

you didn’t realize she had pretty much backed you against one of the walls of the small room until now. this feeling, that you couldn’t quite put a name on, was so sudden and so foreign. did you have feelings for her that you had just been pushing away all this time because of jealousy? if not, what the hell was it?

her hand wandered up your skirt, stopping right before reaching your cunt. she looked up at you as if asking for approval, and although you hesitated for a moment, it’s as if your body made the decision for you and you nodded.

she didn’t waste any time and dipped her hand in your panties, rubbing circles on your clit to tease you, causing you to whimper and moan softly.

“so classy and put together whenever i see you, but look at you right now,” she teased. “no one would ever think you’d be whimpering for me like this.”

you blushed and looked away in embarrassment. you didn’t get why that made you blush. so many thoughts were racing through your head, so many conflicting feelings. yet you didn’t try to pull away, even though you had many opportunities to do so.

her touches weren’t enough and you were starting to get desperate, causing you to lightly buck your hips back and forth trying to feel her more.

“oh? someone’s desperate,” she chuckled. “alright, princess, i’ll give you what you want.”

you weren’t sure what she meant by that or what she was planning to do, but, for whatever reason, you trusted her.

she pulled her hand out of your panties, making you whine at the lack of contact.

“don’t worry, baby,” she said, getting down on her knees, her face at the level of your cunt. “i’ll take care of you real good.”

she started pulling down your panties and threw them somewhere on the floor, motioning you to put your leg on her shoulder. you seemed hesitant, thinking your leg might be kind of heavy for her to support on her shoulder. but she assured you it’d be fine.

her mouth was now millimeters away from your cunt. “if it’s too much, tell me to stop.” she looked up at you. you nodded, a little scared, but you still wanted to trust her.

she gave a long lick along your slit to tease you, making you gasp from the contact. she started mercilessly licking and sucking on your clit a little more intensely than you’d like her to, but at the same time, you liked it. you couldn’t tell her to stop. whimpers and moans came out of your mouth, being all that could be heard inside the small room aside from the wet sounds of ellie’s mouth on your cunt. you struggled more and more each second to stand as your legs wobbled and trembled from the sensation. she slid a finger inside you with ease, thrusting it in and out of you at a rapid pace which made you struggle to contain your moans that you started trying so hard to conceal since they only kept getting louder and louder. you had only been in that shed for about 6 minutes, but you were already about to reach your climax. and ellie was aware of this. she sped up her pace a little more, slurping up your juices like it was nothing.

after a moment, she lifted your leg from her shoulder and held your arm while getting up to make sure you could stabilize your footing.

“you okay?”

you nodded, and suddenly you realized what had just happened. ellie williams ate you out. you let the girl you swore you hated so bad eat you out, and you enjoyed it. you didn’t know what was the most shocking; that she didn’t hate you too, that she was even attracted to you, that she wanted to eat you out, or that you just let her. you weren’t sure wether you regretted it or not.

“what, you’re surprised you liked it or something?” she laughed, as if she had read your mind.

you felt your cheeks tint a slight red, and looked away in embarrassment, confirming she was right.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes, turning to leave, but she grabbed your arm and stopped you.

“listen,” she looked into your eyes. “if you want, we can just forget about this. we don’t have to tell ‘em what happened.”

you nodded, and you both awkwardly walked back to the circle.

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

when you sat back down, dina looked you up and down and giggled.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you whispered to her.

“you think we’re dumb?” she giggled. “there’s a reason neither of you had to take a shot. like for example, your messy hair.”

you realized it was obvious, and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right there. you had a lot of different feelings about what just happened, but the main one was embarrassment. it would’ve been one thing if it happened and you didn’t like it, but the fact that you enjoyed it was humiliating. not only did you like it, but you wanted more. you started to take a liking to her, and you hated that.

after about 15 more minutes, everyone got tired of the game and decided to end it. you and dina decided to just go home now, although it was a little early, since you hadn’t been enjoying yourselves much.

as you waited on the front lawn of the house for your uber to get there, you heard a voice calling from behind.

“dina!”

you both turned around and surprise surprise, it was ellie.

“what is it?”

“can i talk to your friend real quick?”

you and dina looked at each other, and you sighed and decided to talk to her. you thought it’ll be quick, and if anything, when the uber arrives you can use it as your get out of jail free card.

you walked over to her and she seemed to be abnormally tense.

“i just, uh. i wanted to ask if you were fine after all that.” she mumbled with a genuine expression on her face.

“ellie, it’s fine.” you sighed.

“are you sure?”

“yes, don’t worry about it. seriously.”

you thought that was it, but she clearly had something else on her mind.

“ellie, spit it out.”

“well, also,” she looked up at you, “i wanted to ask you for your number. i don’t think i’ve ever actually talked to you aside from today.”

you chuckled in disbelief at the audacity this girl had. clearly she knew you’d say no, and just wanted to rile you up. but you wouldn't give her that satisfaction, so you dropped the expression immediately and instead had a calm look on your face.

“maybe some other time, babe”

— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —

A / N : u guys know i don’t rlly like adding notes at the end of my fics but i felt i must clarify the last sentence isn’t reader having a complete 180 change of personality all of a sudden rather just acting different than she was right before leaving to sort of leave ellie stunned if that makes sense but i didn’t know how to end it and clarify that eheh also i might make a part 2 of this after i finish my next fic and the part 2 to my other fic if u guys want it <3 also ONCE AGAIN english is not my first language i’m not completely fluent yet and i write as a way to practice ++ i don’t have a beta reader sooo if u guys find mistakes PLEASE let me know !! thx for reading <33

#arielle writes ୨୧ #arielle’s 18+ ୨୧ #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams x you #tlou x reader

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 9 months

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hi derin! i’ve been following you for a little while, and also bemoaning the nature of publishing fiction (indie or trad) for a little bit longer than that, and i only just realized today that…of course web serials are a thing i can also do!

i really love the idea of publishing serially (though i’m not totally sure i CAN, i’d like to try), so while i add this to my list of potential paths, do you have any advice for getting started? building an audience? marketing? figuring out if writing/publishing this way will work for you to begin with?

i know that’s a lot of questions, and you don’t have to answer all of them! i’m throwing spaghetti at a wall out here. i hope you have a good day though, and thanks in advance!

Getting started in web serial writing

Web serial writing has the lowest barrier of entry of any major method of publishing your story. You can literally just start. There are two steps:

start writing your story

decide how/where you want to publish it

The writing part, I assume you have handled. The important thing to note here is that you gotta see the project through. Start and don't stop until you're done. For publishing, you have a few options:

1. Publish on a website designed for web serial novels

There are a few of these around, they're usually free to publish on (although most offer a paid account to give you ad space or boost you int he algorithm or whatever), and your best choice generally depends on which one happens to gravitate to a niche that best suits your kind of work. The big names in this industry are Royal Road and Scribblehub, which, last I checked up on them (about a year ago) tended towards isekai and light erotica respectively. (You absolutely can publish outside these niches on these sites, it's just much harder to get traction.) Publishing somewhere like this comes with multiple advantages. Firstly, there's a writing community right there to talk to; there's usually a forum or something where people gather to talk about reading or writing on the site. Second, the site itself is designed specifically to publish web serials, and will come with a good layout and hit trackers and 'where you left off' buttons for the reader and all that; generally all you have to do is copy-paste the text of a chapter into the page and the site will do everything else for you. Third, there's an audience sitting right there, browsing the 'latest arrivals' or 'most popular' page of the site; if you can get high in the algorithm, you have to do little if any marketing.

The downsides of such places usually come down to the same things as the advantages. Such sites are a flooded market. Your story absolutely will drown in a sea of other stories, a great many of them terrible, and most of them with the advantage of catering to the site's niche. Gaining an audience there is often a matter of trying to game an algorithm, and the community can be... variable. Some of these places are nice but most of them are a bunch of authors trying to tear down everyone around them to make their own work look better by comparison int he hopes of poaching audiences for their story instead. If you go this route, I'd recommend shopping around for a site that fits you personality and writing style (or just posting on many sites at once; you can also do that).

These places also tend to get targeted by scrapers who will steal your story and sell it as an ebook, which is very annoying.

2. publish on another site

Plenty of people publish web serials here on Tumblr. I do not know why. This site is TERRIBLY set up for that. It makes tracking stories and updates a pain in the arse (people end up having to *manually tag every reader whenever they post an update*), building and maintaining archives are annoying, community building is surprisingly difficult for a social media site, and it's just generally far more work for both writer and reader than it needs to be. You often do have a ready-made audience, though.

This does tend to work better on other sites. Reddit has multiple communities for reading and writing various types of fiction; publishing on these is a bit more work than somewhere like Royal Road, but not very much, and many of these communities are very active. There aren't as many forums around as there used to be, but you might be able to find fiction hosting forums, if that's what you prefer. And of course, many writers who simply want to write and don't mind not being paid choose to write on AO3.

These sites are a good middle ground compromise for people who want a ready-made community and don't mind putting in a bit of extra work.

3. make your own site

This is what I did. You can make a website for free, giving people a hub to find you and all your work, designed however you like. You can also pay for a website if you want it to be a little bit nicer. This option is the most work, but gives you the most control and leaves you free of having to worry about any algorithm.

The obvious downside of this is that there's no community there. If you host your work on your own website, you need to bring people to it. You need to build an audience on your own. This is not an easy thing to do.

Building an audience (general advice)

Here is some general advice about building an audience:

1. Consistency. Consistency. Consistency.

If you want people to read your writing, the best piece of advice I can possibly give you is have an update schedule and update on time, always. If you need to take a break, give people as much warning as possible and tell them exactly when you will be back, and come back then. Do not take unnecessary breaks because you don't feel like writing. (Do take breaks if you get carpal tunnel or need time off for a major life event or something -- your health is more important than the story.) If you're taking a lot of breaks to avoid burnout, you're doing it wrong -- you need to rework your whole schedule from the start and slow down updates to make these breaks unnecessary. Two chapters a month with no breaks is a billion times better than four chapters a month with frequent burnout breaks.

Consistency. Consistency. Consistency.

A reliable schedule is the #1 factor in audience retention. If readers need to randomly check in or wait for notifications from you to check if there's an update, guess what? Most of them won't! They'll read something else. You want your audience to be able to anticipate each release and fit it in their own schedule. I cannot overstate the importance of this.

2. If you can, try to make your story good.

We writers would love to live in a world where this is the most important thing, but it actually isn't. Plenty of people out there are perfectly happy to read hot garbage. How do I define 'hot garbage'? It doesn't matter. Think of what you would consider to be just a terrible, no-effort, pointless garbage story that the world would be better off without. Someone is out there writing that right now, making US$2,500/month on Patreon.

It is, however, a real advantage if you can make your story good. At the very least, it should be worth your audience's time. Preferably, it should also be worth their money, and make them enthusiastic enough to try to get their friends into it. Managing this is massively advantageous.

3. Accept that you're not going to get a big audience for a really long time. Write consistently and update on schedule every time anyway.

It took me over a year to get my second patron. For the first year, I updated Curse Words every single week, on schedule, for over a year, and had maybe... four readers. One of them was a regular commenter. One of them was my first patron. There was no one else.

My audience has grown pretty rapidly, for this industry.

You're not gonna start publishing chapters for a big, vibrant community. You're just not. And you have to keep going anyway. These days, I have a pretty good readership, and those couple of loyal readers (who I appreciate beyond words) have grown into a much larger community, who hang out and debate theories with each other and liveblog and drag in new readers and make fanart. My discord has over 550 members, with volunteer moderators and regular fan artists and its own little in-jokes and games and readers who make a point of welcoming newcomers and helping them navigate the discord, all with very little input from me. I start crying when I think about these people, who do the bulk of my social and marketing work for me just because they want to help, and my patrons who, after writing for over 4.5 years, have recently helped me pass an important threshold -- my web serial (via patreon) now pays my mortgage repayments. I can't live off my writing alone, but boy is that a massive fucking step.

You're not gonna have that when you start. You're gonna have a couple of friends. And that's it. Maybe for a year. Maybe less, if you're good at marketing and lucky. Maybe longer.

You have to update on schedule, every time, anyway.

Building an audience (more specific advice)

"Yeah, that's great, Derin, but where can I find my fucking audience?" Well, if you publish on a web serial site, then the audience is there and you jsut need to grab their affention using the tools and social norms offered to you by the site. I utterly failed at this and cannot help you there. You can still use these other tips to bring in readers from off-site.

1. Paid ads

I've never paid for ads so I can't offer advice on how to do it. I've Blazed a couple of posts on Tumblr; they weren't helpful. This is, however, an option for you.

2. Actually tell people that your story exists and where they can find it.

I used to have a lot of trouble with this. I didn't want to bother people on Tumblr and soforth by telling them about my personal project. Unfortunately you kind of have to just get over that. Now I figure that if people don't want TTOU spam, they can just unfollow me. If you're like me and want to just politely keep your story to yourself... don't. You're shooting yourself in the foot doing that.

You need to mention your story. Link your story in your bio on whatever social media sites you use. Put it in your banner on forums. Make posts and memes about it. Eventually, if you're lucky, extremely valuable readers will start to talk about your story and meme and fanart it for you, but first, you need to let them know it exists.

It will always feel weird to do this. Just accept that people can unfollow you if they want, and do it anyway.

3. Leverage existing audiences and communities

Before I started doing this web serial thing, I used to write a lot of fanfic. The original audience that trickled in for Curse Words comes from AO3, where I was doing a full series rationalist rewrite of Animorphs. They knew how I wrote and wanted more of it. Nowadays, I still occasionally pull in readers through this route. Most of my new readers these days come from a different community -- people who follow me on Tumblr. Occasionally I bring in people who don't follow me because we'll be talking about how one of my stories relates to something different, and fans of that thing might decide they want to check my stories out.

Your first readers will come from communities that you're already in and that are already interested in something similar to what you're doing (people reading my fanfic on AO3 were already there for my writing, for instance). Keep these people in mind when you start out.

One additional critical source of existing communities is your readers themselves. A huge number of my readers are people I've never been in any group with -- they were pulled in by their friends, relatives, or community members who were reading my stories and wanted them to read them too. This is an absolutely invaluable source of 'advertising' and it is critically important to look after these people. enthusiastic readers, word-of-mouth advertisers, and fan artists are the people who will bring in those outside your immediate bubble.

4. Your "where to find me" hub

If you're publishing on your own website, you can simply link everything else to your homepage, and put all relevant links there. For example, I can link people to derinstories.com , which links out to all my stories, social media I want people to find me on (you don't have to link all your social media), patreon, discord, et cetera. If you don't have your own website, you're going to have to create a hub like this in the bios of every site where you garner audiences from. This is the main advantage of publishing on your own website.

Monetisation

There are a few different kinds of monetisation for web serials, but most of them boil down to 'use a web serial format to market your ebook', which to be honest I find pretty shady. These authors will start a web serial, put in enough to hook an audience for free, and then stop posting and release an ebook, with the intention of making readers pay for the ending. Now, to be clear, I am absolutely not against publishing and selling your web serial -- I'm doing exactly that, with Curse Words. I am against intentionally and knowingly setting up the start of a web serial as a 'demo' without telling your audience that that is what you are doing, soliciting Patreon money for it, and then later yanking it away unfinished and demanding money for the ending.

Monetisation of these sorts of stories is really just monetisation for normal indie publishing with the web serial acting as an ad, and I have no advice for how to do that successfully.

Your options of monetisation for a web serial as a web serial are a bit more limited. They essentially come down to merchandise (including ebooks or print books) or ongoing support (patreon, ko-fi, etc.) Of these, the only one I have experience with is the patreon model.

This model of monetisation involves setting up an account with a regular-donation site such as patreon, providing the base story for free, and providing bonuses to patrons. You can offer all kinds of bonuses for patrons. Many patrons don't actually care what the bonus is, they're donating to support you so that you can keep writing the story, but they still like to receive something. But some patrons do donate specifically for the bonuses, so it's worth choosing them with care.

The most common and most effective bonus for web serials is advance chapters -- if people are giving you money, give them the chapters early. You can also offer various bonus materials, merchandise, or voting rights on decisions you need to make in the future. 'Get your character put in the story' is a popular high-tier reward. If you're looking for reward ideas, you can see the ones I use on my patreon.

Patreon used to offer the ability to set donation goals, where you could offer something when you were making a certain amount total or had a certain number of subscribers. They recently removed this feature because Patreon hates me personally and doesn't want me to be happy, so you kind of have to advertise it yourself now if you want to use these goals. I release chapters of unrelated stories at donation goals, and I found this to be far more effective than I thought it would be.

The important factor for this kind of monetisation is that it's ongoing. The main advantage of this is that it makes your income far more regular and predictable than normal indie publishing -- your pledges will go up or down over a month, but not by nearly as much as book sales can. The main thing to keep in mind is that it's not a one-time sale, which means that however you organise things, you want to make sure that donating keeps on being worth it, month after month. Offering bonuses that aren't just one-time bonuses, but things that the patron can experience every month, helps here. So does making sure that you have a good community where patrons can hang out with other patrons. (Offering advance chapters does both of these things -- the patron can stay ahead in the story and discuss stuff with other patrons that non-patrons haven't seen. I've found that a lot of my patrons enjoy reading an emotionally devastating chapter ahead of time, discussing it, and then all gathering a week or two later to watch the unsuspecting non-patrons experience it for the first time.)

Whatever method you use for monetisation, rule #1 is (in the words of Moist Von Lipwig): always make it easy for people to give you money. The process of finding out how to give you money should be easy, as should the process of actually doing it. And, most importantly, the spender should feel like it's worth it to give you money. This is a big part of making it easy to give you money. Make your story worth it, make your bonuses worth it, make sure that they're happy to be part of your community and that they enjoy reading and supporting you. And remember that support comes in many forms -- the fan artist, the word-of-mouth enthuser, the person who makes your social hub a great place to be, the patron, all of these people are vital components in the life support system that keeps your story going. And you're going to have to find them, give them a story, and build them a community, word by word and brick by brick.

It's a long process.

Good luck.

#web serials #web serial novels #writing #advice

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rendy-a · 1 year

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Regarding your househusband AU,

what do you think of general househusband headcanons for Sebek?

It’s always fun to write Sebek. He has nice qualities like being loyal and dependable but at the same time, something about him is just lends itself to comedy. Lets see what it’s like being married to sweet and silly Sebek.

If he is going to give up his life’s goal of being Malleus’s guard to be a househusband, then he is resolved to be the best househusband. He couldn’t live with himself otherwise! Sebek assigns himself training projects to improve his household skills. Through research and practice, he hones his skills. Now, he can fold a fitted sheet and tell you how to get red wine out of your white shirt. And yes, he is pretty smug about it.

You are famous throughout the neighborhood; how could you not be? Sebek goes about bragging up all your accomplishments to everyone he meets. When you meet a new neighbor, it is common to get an appraising look and a, “OH! So, you’re the spouse of Sebek. He’s told us ALL about you.” Sebek will stand at your side with a proud expression; it’s only right that the neighbors recognize the greatness of his Sweetie-Sama!

He feels things deeply, he may just not always show it. Be sure to let him know how much he means to you. Your loving words carry him throughout the day. If you give him a gift, he will treasure it like the priceless symbol of your love that it is. Please keep this in mind when picking out gifts and don’t get him anything perishable. He will be heartbroken when the flowers wilt or the candy spoils.

You were talking with your neighbor, having meet her on the street while taking out the trash for collection day. “I’m surprised to see you this morning, it’s usually your spouse who brings out the trash,” you say to make polite conversation. “That lazy bum! I’ve told them at least three times today to take it out but do they do it, no! So here I am!” Then your neighbor proceeds to heave the bag of trash into the waiting can with a sigh. “MY SWEETIE-SAMA ALWAYS TAKES OUT THE TRASH WITHOUT BEING ASKED!” Sebek shouts, causing you both to jump at his sudden arrival. “Perhaps you should consider your spouse’s merit if they can’t take out a single measly bag.” Sebek concludes with a smug grin.

Your neighbor takes one look at Sebek’s expression and turns sour, “Well it’s just taking out the trash. It’s not like it is that important.” Sebek looks stunned for a moment, as though your neighbor had dared insult him and his ancestors. “HUMAN! Have you no PRIDE in your spouse! Of course, it matters!” You sense that this is another neighbor who will not become a friend. You better do some damage control. “Ah, Sebek, could you please run inside and see if you can find my keys? I seem to have misplaced them.” Your eager spouse is easily distracted by the opportunity to prove himself useful to you and darts off into the house.

You turn and give your neighbor and apologetic look. “Sorry about that, he just is very enthusiastic.” She gives you a disapproving frown, “Human. You let him talk to you like that? Does he respect you at all?” You cringe, aware of the way Sebek is often perceived by others. “I assure you that he treats me very well,” you say. ‘Maybe he should teach your spouse a thing or two,’ you add privately to yourself before heading back inside.

When you arrive inside, Sebek is waiting for you with a beaming grin that shows his fangs. He proudly presents you with your missing keys. “What a fine job, dear. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you say before giving him a peck on the cheek. Your praise and kiss add an adorable flush to your spouse’s cheeks. You feel saddened that such a wonderful person can be so misunderstood.

Sebek notices your drooping shoulders and attempts to cheer you up, “Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter if some lowly human can’t recognize your greatness. I’ll be sure to scold her more later.” This makes you chuckle, imagining your spouse cornering her and shouting to her about your virtues. Suddenly, you decide not to go to work today. “Hey, what do you say I take a day off and we have a date instead?” The excited expression on your spouse’s face tells you that this was just what you needed.

There is an area of your town that has a carnival atmosphere. There are street food stands, games, and a Ferris wheel; you take your husband here for your date. After arriving, you scope out the selection and pick out some food; tasty fried foods to start and cotton candy for dessert. The best part of the meal though is seeing Sebek blush when you wipe the stray sauce from his cheek. Then you walk the boardwalk, trying your hand at a few games. Sebek wins you a small stuffed bear and you assign him the task of protecting your precious charge. He takes this duty as serious as when he was still a guard-in-training back at college. Surly, no harm will come this bear.

Finally, you wind up at a stand that draws caricature portraits. “You should get one!” you tell Sebek happily. He looks at you and says, “If it’s for me than I want one of you!” You laugh and pay for a portrait before sitting down. As the artist sketches you, he asks about your spouse. You end up gazing at him and chatting with the artist about how you’d met, your wedding and some of your many adventure since. When the picture is finished, the artist hands it to you. You look at it, laugh and comment, “I look like a lovestruck teenager.” He laughs back and says, “Are you sure you aren’t one?” That brings another laugh and smile to your lips.

When you get home, you both carry your treasures inside. You find a comfy place on the couch for your bear to ‘sleep’ and then head to see where Sebek has put your caricature. You find him in the office he has taken over for his library. He gives you a satisfied smile and hug before heading off to prepare dinner. You gaze at the wall of the library; between two bookcases, your caricature hangs next to the portrait of Malleus that Sebek has cherished all these years. ‘Yes,’ you think, ‘your husband does respect you.’ The proof is right on the wall.

#househusband au #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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halfmoth-halfman · 2 months

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i got an ask about advice for writing when you're discouraged, so i thought i'd make a post addressing some of the points because i think this is something that everyone has gone through and can relate to. most of this is just what's helped me/what i'd tell myself in the past, but if anyone has advice to add on please feel free! i hope this helps at least a little bit, anon!

"I’m not good at (dialogue/atmosphere/prose/etc)."

write it anyways! one of the best ways to build a skill is to keep doing it. even if you don't ever post it, or only share it with a few friends, or just read it to your pets, or whatever you choose to do, it's better to write something "badly" than to not write at all. or even asking for help on how to improve from other writers. i struggle a lot with atmosphere and scenery, and something that helped me a lot was talking to other writers whose fics i really enjoy and inspire me. i know it may seem intimidating, but there are plenty of writers on tumblr that would love to talk about how they compose their scenes, their dialogue, anything and everything if someone asks.

"I can’t make moodboards/headers/aesthetic posts."

the good news is, you don't have to! fics don't have to have anything other than the fic itself. i can't speak for everyone, but while aesthetics may get my attention, it's the person behind the blog that i stay for. if you want your blog or your fics to have a pretty aesthetic, it shouldn't be because you feel forced to but because you want to do it. if you don't find making moodboards or headers or aesthetic posts fun, then you don't have to do them. and if you want to, but don't know how, there are a ton of resources, links, and blogs dedicated to helping on tumblr.

"I’m not at (insert someone else)’s writing level."

and you might never be, and that's okay! every writer is different - they have different styles, write at different paces, perceive their skill differently. basing your progress on someone else's isn't going to help because you're not them. you have your own time, energy, ability, and ideas, you'll grow and improve at your own pace, just like they did. don't force yourself to try and follow the same timeline of someone else, and don't put yourself down because you're getting better - and you are getting better - at your own pace.

"I can’t find the motivation to write."

honestly same. i think it's a pretty universal experience to lose motivation for something you were excited about at one point. sometimes the vibes aren't it and the story doesn't want to story, but that's alright. it can be hard to stay motivated, and what gets someone inspired again is different everyone. i can't give advice for anything outside of what's helped me, but a few ways i've re-motivated myself to write something are: making a fic playlist, stepping away from the fic for a day or two, giving it to a friend to read, re-watching/reading the source material, doodling fic ideas, and skipping to a different part of the story.

"I can’t write fast enough."

unless it's for something like work where you have a fixed deadline, there is no "fast enough" in writing. don't let anyone tell you otherwise. when i first started writing, in the very early days of ao3 and tumblr, fic updates could takes months or even more than a year and that was fine! one of my favorite fics took a six year hiatus, and that didn't diminish any of the enjoyment i had when it came back. you are not a machine, you're a human being with needs outside of writing. it's always okay if you need to take a break, if there's a long wait between chapters, or if you want to stop a project altogether and come back to it six years later. if someone gives you grief because you can't write within their time-frame then they're not worth having as a reader - do not overwork yourself for the sake of finishing a fic.

"It’s hard to stick to one idea at a time."

then don't! write all the ideas. write every single one. working on a project and you have a drabble that you just keep thinking about? write it. you get a sudden idea for a one-shot in a different fandom? write it. woke up in the mood to start a new five-chapter fic? write it. you can start or stop writing about anything at any time. there is no rule that you have to stick to one idea and finish it before you can write anything else, don't make yourself stick to something if it's not what you want to write, and don't punish yourself if you need to take a break from your current project.

"Maybe I’m not made for writing on tumblr."

tumblr is a shitposting website that barely works at the best of times. half of my drafts get deleted every other week for no reason - there is no way to be "made for writing on tumblr"! but tumblr is huge, there's a bajillion communities on here that would be so excited to have another writer, and a ton that are solely dedicated to helping writers and providing different resources. i guarantee there is someone on this website that will love and adore your writing.

"The things I read are better than anything I can write/comparing myself to other writers."

i don't have the cake picture saved, but we all know the gist of it: the audience (generally) isn't going to care about how decorated your cake is compared to another, they're just happy to get two cakes. and that's really all it is. your fic might not be the same preferred flavor as the audience of other writers, but there is someone out there who's going to enjoy it. i won't tell you to just not compare yourself to others, i know that's not how it works, but what has helped me is changing the way i view other fics. instead of thinking "i wish i could write like this person", i look at like "this inspires me to improve my writing". and don't get me wrong, i still have moments of doubt about my writing compared to some of the people i read, i don't think that will ever really stop, but the best thing you can do is not let yourself give in to that feeling. try and stop that train of thought before it leaves the station. no one else can write the way you can. no one else can tell your stories the way you can. no one else has the same voice as you do. if everyone wrote the same way, everything would be boring. the heart of a fic is seeing the author's personality shine through it. if you see someone write a good fic, that doesn't mean yours won't be. you have to give yourself a chance even when you feel like your writing won't be as good as someone else's. you have to bake your cake anyway.

"How do I find joy in something I know I’ll never be good at?"

you won't. full stop. if you keep telling yourself you'll never be good at something, you'll never improve, there's no point in trying, then you'll never enjoy it. i know it's easier said than done, but you have to have some level of confidence in yourself and in your writing. not only will you not enjoy it, other people will see the lack of enjoyment, the "i wrote this and it sucks" comments, the self-degradation, and they won't enjoy it either - no one feels good about a fic the author clearly didn't want to write. and, if you try everything you possibly can and still can't find any joy in writing, then maybe writing isn't the hobby for you. and that's perfectly okay! i tried quilting and glassblowing several times before i realized i just didn't like it the same way i liked writing. you owe it to yourself to find something that's fun, that makes you smile, that you're excited to do. there's a million hobbies out there, i promise you'll find something that brings you joy.

#moth talks #writing advice #long post

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good-beanswrites · 6 months

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Same Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins anon here (you know if I'm gonna keep sending anon asks because of ideas, I need a shorter name...) Glad they're getting time to cool off on what happened during the trial. This project is hard on them all QvQ

Okay another thought! While working on the Trial 2 MVs, you think the prisoners get to watch everyone's first MVs? Like, maybe praise how each video looks ("Oh my gosh, Amane you look amazing!"), making comments with Jackalope's artistic choices (Shidou's flower mummy) and how stiff some of the prisoners look ("Fuuta you're walking like a tinman." "Shut up!"), some singing along to songs they've overheard earlier (Kotoko singing Weakness), and...er...shirtless Mikoto ("Amane don't look!"). Idk, this makes their filming for the next MVs sound more fun as they hang out.

Hello again!! omg Thank You for sharing once again, I’m obsessed with that 🥺🥺🥺 That's so wonderful picturing a little movie night... (And yes, feel free to pick a name :D else I will dub thee 🎬 next time given the theme lmao)

Okay so my original idea was that those first videos were actually watched on the down-low. There were a few days of nothing going on while the prisoners debriefed, made plans, and communicated their song ideas to the writers to start working with. (Minor detail but I think they’re cut off from the world still, no internet access though they can exchange a few messages/visits with family). They do, however, get access to the others’ T1 videos on their phones/ facility computers. Everyone gave permission to watch them, but there’s a bit of hesitancy. They haven’t started filming their new videos yet, so no one has gotten a look that deep into anyone else’s hearts. Just because they’re closer in this au doesn’t make them better communicators -- there’s still a lot that’s been left unsaid regarding near-murders and their true selves. So they only watch them in secret out of respect.

Haruka hides under the covers to watch After Pain on loop late into the night (going “she’s just like me fr”). Fuuta doesn’t care much for the others’ songs but tries to decipher the crimes as best as he can. He probably gets one stuck in his head the next few days that he finds really embarrassing. Mahiru gets very emotional over the other lovers, doing a poor job of hiding her sympathy toward Yuno, Shidou, and Kazui in the following days. Kazui is embarrassed to watch Throw Down so often, but Shidou is such a subtle man and it’s nice to see a more open side to him (who admits to lying as well). Amane takes a while to watch them -- they’re videos supporting murder and sin, after all -- but once she convinces herself it’s to help the experiment, she allows herself to enjoy them. Kotoko does the same as Fuuta but jumps straight into Fandom Mode and starts taking notes and analyzing the others’ videos. She keeps a secret folder on her phone of theories and symbolism and screenshots for reference.

HOWEVER

You have opened my eyes to Milgram Movie Night 👁️👁️

Everyone realizes they’re going to need to get comfortable with a lot of personal info really quickly, since T2 filming starts in a few days. Rather than Jackalope’s suggestion of undergoing a painful group circle talk, they go with Mikoto’s idea to all sit down to watch the videos together. This keeps the atmosphere up while they watch, allowing for many compliments and encouragement. It also lets the singer defend things in their video if they see fit, though most let it speak for itself. (Fuuta: “ah, back when I was a menace online.” “You’re still like that Fuuta.” “I’m a changed man!” “You got one guilty verdict and nothing’s even happened yet.”)

I love all of those reactions so much ahhhh! Amane getting showered in compliments like she deserves. Honestly, all of them getting showered in complements because it's what they deserve ;-; Playful teasing getting thrown around for everyone. Not even Jackalope is safe from their heckling (see: Throw Down flower person), and he's not even there to defend himself. There’s lots of blushing and eye covering during MeMe. And a singalong aspect!! I don’t know I didn’t think to incorporate that into the fic so far -- there’s nothing quite like heckling your friend onstage by echoing their lines really loud from the wings asdfsdfsd. Mikoto recognizes the video game from Fuuta’s and makes his whole day. Mahiru and Shidou realize they have both flowers and food in common, and get to talking. All at once, everything clicks into place for why Amane hated Shidou him so much.

I'm also realizing Kazui would have a Moment TM while seeing all the prisoners talking so comfortably about their deepest selves and struggles. I don't think he'd break down and open up just yet, but I bet it's be a pretty big change of heart for him to see such honesty/vulnerability...

Plus, most of my original ideas can still stand after the fact! There's no shame in seeing too much personal info about another prisoner, the only shame comes from just how many time the video was looped in private lmao

#milgram #thank you for sharing your thoughts waaahhh these have been making me sooo crazy!!!#and ive seen people using emoji nicknames and thought it was cute but feel free to pick an actual name haha #i would do anything for the vas to cover other trial songs ;-;#i just love the idea of them singing together so much...#im not a theater kid but i did dance and been backstage for some shows so i know what its like when the rest of the company is shouting out #the song thats currently playing for the dancers onstage #im just picturing the prisoners getting silly on set while the background track is playing and they start singing along #or like everyone shouting along with muu's big moment 'kawaiso nano!' or joining in the 'aaahhh-LOVE' in cat #ill have to keep that in mind for the t3 drabbles....#this made me remember theres a line in the fic insinuating kazui never saw harrow so maybe i go back and fix that later #because i always intended for them to see all the videos #i try to keep my fics fairly ship-neutral but theres definitely potential here for prisoners getting caught looping the singer they have #a thing for :')#lights camera sing your sins #ask

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sumire-no-nikki · 3 months

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Grow Into

It has been a rainy week over here. Only 8 days into February and I feel like I’ve lived four lives already. It has been awfully busy. I’m doing a million things and planning on doing even more. I’m not complaining though. I feel very present and engaged with every project I’m working on. It has been a very productive year so far.

I’m here in my study, lounging on my reading chair and sipping coffee (inexplicably at almost 19:00! don't worry it's decaf!). I feel enveloped by the silence as I reflect on the past couple of days that have been quiet on my end. It’s not out of sadness or anything painful like that. There are just periods of time when I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I've always been this way, I think. My inner world just feels so much more enticing that it doesn’t feel necessary to venture out. I’m thankful that my friends and loved ones understand this. I suppose an extrovert might read this and think, oh how pitiful. But there’s nothing sad about it. I feel very nourished swimming in the lake of my own mind. There’s never anything to explain or justify, and I feel thoroughly fulfilled going about my days and getting things done this way.

At any rate I think I’m coming out of it now. I feel like my internal gauge is reading “ready to socialize again” so I’m crawling out of my personal wonderland to say hello.

I will say that something rather shocking happened to me recently. Shocking, sad in a way, but ultimately triumphant.

To make a long story short, I found out that someone had wronged me, for the millionth time, despite all the reassurances and chances in the world. It was something juvenile enough on its own. And it wasn’t the act itself that was upsetting to me, but the intention and effort to lie about it. This person hurt me with the attempt to misrepresent facts, and in doing so has communicated to me that they don’t think I’m important or worthy of consideration. When it mattered, they would choose to run me over. With every “I’m sorry” and every “I forgive you,” my affection for this person is diluted.

In the past, I took incidents like this very personally. When I wasn’t chosen by a friend group, it was some sort of judgment against me. When my mother compared me to other girls, it was an indication of my shortcomings. I always felt alone. Everyone else had an ally while I was left to starve for someone to fight my corner, to acknowledge my worth and defend it. I saw another person’s inability to value me as my personal responsibility. I thought I had to work hard to earn someone’s attention and investment. And because this is inevitably a fool’s errand, the result was always the same. I renewed my self hatred with every disappointment. I was sure there was something inherently unlovable about me.

But in the moment in which the truth hesitantly came out from this person, I saw very clearly that I had nothing to do with it. That while it was hurtful to me, while it was a blatant disregard of my own wellbeing, there was nothing I could have done to prevent this. No amount of loving harder, understanding better, or caring deeper would have changed the situation. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the other person.

While the conversation was unfolding, I was struck by the growth I noticed in myself. I have myself. I am my greatest ally. Yes, this person hurt me, but it doesn’t matter in the end. I will not be consumed by someone else’s failings. These were the thoughts I had, and I haven’t felt this proud of myself in a long time.

I don’t need their consideration if it’s not something they can provide. You wouldn’t go to the desert for snow after all. And that’s not a judgement against them. They are who they are. They can only be who they are. They make their choices. We’re just all different. And I’m at peace with that because I have all that I need right here. I have me.

I saw myself in that moment, reading someone’s apologies for something they’ve shown to not have any intention of changing or correcting, and felt such possessiveness over my heart and mind. I saw the woman I am and thought, you’re mine. You’re mine and I will take care of you. I smiled even after that shocking confrontation—all the unpleasantness just slid off my back. I held myself. The love I had been looking for all my life was right there. I was enough.

Perhaps this is very elementary to some people. But it meant a lot to hear it come from me. Not as an advice, not from a therapist, not from a self help book. It came from me because I wanted to tell myself that I love the girl I was, the woman I am and will be after all.

I was listening to a political podcast last week and the host brought up the fact that strong people are not those who can maintain an extended period of stability, but those who can go through all manner of changes. There’s a focus on making sure we don’t disrupt our lives as much as possible. We enter adulthood seeking a city to claim as ours, a career to specialize in, a partner to settle down with. A divergence from that path is widely considered as a bad thing, or worse, a failure. But I’m more convinced now than ever that if things don’t go well for me, I’ll be just fine anyway. I’m not worried anymore. I’m shedding the years of anxiety and control, and I’m giving way to a version of myself that’s even more liberated, resilient. I am growing into strength. I will keep on going no matter what. It’s in my nature.

Anyway, here are two books I’ve started reading recently. Water by John Boyle which is a book I bought last year while I was in Bath, and the other one is Nobody, Somebody, Anybody by Kelly McClorey. Both books are on my 24 books for 2024. I realized I hadn’t read one book from the list in January as I was feeling rather spontaneous then, so I’ve got to catch up with the list this month. I also plan to reread The Searcher by Tana French at the end of the month because the sequel novel is coming out first week of March and I want to be prepared. As a Tana French-stan (as the young ones say these days—how do you do fellow kids? lol) I cannot tell you just how excited I am for this new book. I’ve pre-ordered a signed copy and I am shaking with anticipation just typing this. Tana French novels represent a very specific feeling and time in my life, so I always welcome the opportunity to jump back into her written world. This is funny, now that I think about it, because her books are actually pretty damn bleak. Oh well!

Reading has been going in a somewhat slower pace, in comparison to how it was in the last quarter of last year. I’m fine with it so long as I’m on track to complete my annual goal. I do wish I would have more time to just devour more books though. Someone on Reddit calculated how many books they have left to read if they live up to a certain age and read a certain amount of books annually. That mildly alarmed me. I obviously have a handful of decades ahead of me (if everything goes well lol) but to have a concrete number of books you’ve got left to read in your lifetime is such an existential experience. But it’s a bit silly too, honestly, because all sorts of things could happen. You could die tomorrow, you could live longer than expected. You just never know.

Here’s a recent addition to the vinyl collection. It’s the deluxe edition of Billie Marten’s first album on colored vinyl. I have a copy of the first pressing from 2016, and I will say the main differences here is that the first pressing came in a nice sturdy textured cardboard gatefold, and the booklet has more pages and artwork. The packaging just feels more luxurious. It’s on a standard black vinyl and it sounds just fine. The repress on the other hand is an MOV pressing, which means it’s digitally mastered and not by the original label. The audio quality is very clean though, and it comes with deluxe edition tracks. It’s also numbered and limited to only 1000 copies. I plugged in my headphones into the receiver the other day to do an up close listening and it was a delight to listen to. It was like being in an amphitheater. I’m so happy to have this in my collection, relieved I snagged one before the scalpers hoard all the copies and start selling it for $300 a piece lmao. (Ah, vinyl collecting is just god awful nowadays… but that’s a topic for another day.)

Alright, that’s all for now. Here’s a Faye Webster song I’ve been revisiting a lot lately. It makes me want to be in silky pjs and walk around my house with a cup of coffee whenever I listen to this song. It feels like gentle morning sunshine, don’t you think?

I’m going to read now until my eyelids can’t stay open. I’m very cosy here. I hope you’re also keeping cosy wherever you are!

Toodeloo!

#diary #sumire-no-nikki

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tanoraqui · 1 year

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S&D Tier fic inspired by this video. unedited.

“Kiddo, we need to talk about something,” Alex said, and thought, Oh god, I’m turning onto my father. Parenthood was a mistake. I should scrap this all right now and pretend it never happened.

But Hawk was already abandoning its legos and scurrying over to where Alex stood in its bedroom doorway, looking up at them all expectant and a little nervous. (It didn’t project except deliberately; Alex had given themself zeranid-specific telepathy during the space war, for army-directing purposes, and only ever partly turned it off because being able to read your kid’s moods was really helpful in parenting, especially when your kid was an insectoid war machine that didn’t visibly emote like a human).

(Yeah, it was way too late to scrap this all and pretend it’d never happened. It’d pretty much been too late since Morgan first phrased “keep an eye on my core hivemind war machine” as “babysitting.”)

Hawk had scrambled up their body to perch on their head and peer down at them through bent eyestalks. It loved doing that with Alex, because most people couldn’t hold forty pounds of chitin and lethal claws on their head without wobbling.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re adorable.”

Alex patted it on the shell, then walked over to its bed, gently pried its claws out of their hair, and set it on the skateboard-patterned duvet beside them.

“Now, I know you were eavesdropping on my call with Diego earlier—”

I wasn’t! Hawk insisted, projecting innocence and injury.

“I’m an expert eavesdropper and I saw one of your spy drones in the vent,” Alex retorted. “Learn to spy better if you don’t want to get caught!”

Hawk drew its limbs in a couple inches, sulking. Alex scratched the base of its eyestalks reassuringly. This was why they planned on leaving this sort of Real Conversation With Our Kid mostly to Morgan—Morgan was better at reassuring! But obviously, Morgan couldn’t take this Real Conversation…

“I’m guessing you didn’t hear what Diego was saying too much, though?”

They kept scratching as Hawk begrudgingly shook its head.

I could hear her being angry. Do I still get to play with Ducky today?

Alright, time rip off the bandaid.

“Yes,” Alex promised. “But— Listen, you know how Morgan woke up screaming in the middle of the night last…7am today?” Which was like midnight for Morgan; even parenthood hadn’t changed that.

Uh-huh, said Hawk.

“And you know how you showed them that cool trick with the squirrel a couple days ago, you know, the one you told me about over dinner?” While Morgan looked faintly queasy and didn’t finish their food, man, Alex was kicking themself now; at the time they’d been too busy laughing and enthusing at the gory details and the little dance Hawk did to show how it had puppetted the squirrel corpse.

Yeah! Hawk’s limbs stretched back out and its eyestalks waved excitedly. I’m going to show Ducky at our playdate! I’m going to make one do the Macarena. That’s Ducky’s favorite dance.

“That’s hysterical,” Alex informed it. “Okay, but here’s the thing: you can’t let Ducky’s parents know, and you need to pay attention to if Ducky is getting scared while you show him—you remember what people are like when they’re scared?”

Hawk rolled their eyes both internally and externally. They smell nicer and I want to kill them more slowly.

“Hel– heck yeah,” said Alex. “So, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if Ducky is getting scared, you should stop your super cool squirrel trick. Even if you haven’t made it dance yet. Because otherwise, Ducky might be the next one waking up with screaming nightmares, and then Diego really would cancel your next playdate, instead of just talking sh– trash.”

What?! Hawk reared up in dismay and affront, hissing in the way quadrillions of people on thousands of worlds had learned to fear. Why?

But it was a smart kid, so it immediately connected the dots—the really important dots in this conversation; no offense, Ducky. It curled back in on itself unhappily. Did I make Morgan have a nightmare?

“Yeah,” Alex said bluntly. “And Morgan is never, ever going to admit it, because they love you so, so much, and they’d literally rather die rather than make you feel bad about anything you can do or want to do.”

Don’t kill Morgan’s parents, they reminded themself reflexively, to counter the other reflexive thoughts. Do not kill Morgan’s parents, do not kill Morgan’s parents, do not—

They gathered Hawk onto their lap and booped it just above the mandibles, to remind it that it was cute and loveable and to make sure they had its full attention.

“Morgan is stubborn like that, but Morgan is also squeamish,” they explained, in terms suited to a six-year-old. “Literally and morally. That means that when they see too much blood or wiggling internal organs or corpses used as toys or…any sort of killing, really… If they see that stuff up close, they start to feel sick. It’s very lame, I know it’s very lame, but that’s just how they are. So, because we love Morgan, there are rules of thumb—rules of claw, for you, I guess.”

Hawk projected rapt attention. Alex had noticed at some point years ago that every random monster they manifested now—not a power they used often, but it could be fun, eg, for space armies—instinctively adored Morgan as a default feature of their existence. It wasn’t a feature they felt any need to change.

They enumerated on their fingers.

“One, try not to take more than about fifteen seconds to kill a single living creature in front of Morgan, and no more than a minute for a group. If you want to take longer than that, or if it seems like you need to take longer than that, either drag your victim out of sight or drag Morgan away and come back later.

“Two, don’t play with or otherwise weaponize corpses for more than, like, casually throwing them at your enemies, in front of Morgan. Otherwise it’s fine! And Morgan doesn’t even mind if they’re watching you fight on tv. It’s just when they have to see it up close that they start to feel sick.”

I don’t want to make Morgan feel sick. Hawk wasn’t quite at the stage where a human child would be in tears—they were a ruthless killing machine, albeit one who was functionally a six-year-old with an increasingly healthy upbringing with loving parents. But it radiated distress, and hid its face in Alex’s midriff like Alex could shield it from every possible bad thing in the world. Which Alex could, obviously.

Can’t you just make them not get sick?

“Believe me, I’ve thought about it.” Alex sighed, and scratched it gently between the eyestalks again. “But then they wouldn’t be Morgan, you know?”

No! said Hawk, confused and annoyed.

“You will when you’re older,” Alex promised, with another mark on the Turning Into My Parents list.

Hawk critter-grumbled against Alex’s stomach. And Ducky will get sick, too?

“He might, he might not,” Alex said truthfully. “He’s pretty young, so he probably can’t conceptualize that you’re killing people yet, defiling their corpses, all that stuff. In which case, it’s way better to show him now, so he’ll get used to it early!”

Hawk sat back on Alex’s lap with a thoughtful twist of its eyestalks. And I can still show you, right?

“Oh fuck yeah!” said Alex. “I can’t believe you haven’t shown me yet! I love flesh puppets! No matter how your playdate with Ducky goes, you and I are going to the park again tomorrow so you can kill as many squirrels as you want.”

Hawk brightened even to the non–zeranid-telepathic eye. It mentally ran through the list of people who were in on the secret of their identity.

Can I show Barnaby and Ohio?

“Totally,” said Alex. “I want to watch you show Barnaby and Ohio. Please let me be there.”

Okay.

“Okay!” said Alex. He scratched the base of Hawk’s eyestalks again, briskly. “Good talk, champ.” Oh god, that was a pure Mom-ism. “By the way, Rule Three is all bets are off if you or Morgan, or Ducky, is in real danger. Then you should kill whoever and however you want until you’re safe—and full! No skipping meals!”

Hawk both telepathically projected and physically dramatized the rolling of eyes again. Alex and Morgan were raising one sarcastic kid. To be fair, the idea of skipping and not skipping meals did come up a lot in their household.

Speaking of…

“Speaking of, you’d better eat lunch before you go to Ducky’s, or Diego won’t get you guys ice cream at the park.” Alex scooped Hawk up in their arms and headed toward the kitchen. “How’s raw hamburger sound?”

Hawk chittered. With the blood of my enemies!

“Absolutely not,” said Alex. “And don’t try to tell me Morgan lets you drink that stuff—even they wouldn’t give Red Bull to a six-year-old.” Plain coffee, maybe, but not that monstrosity.

Yes they do! Hawk insisted.

“No they don’t.”

Yes they do!

“No they— This is a stupid argument.” They planted Hawk on the kitchen counter and spoke firmly. “You can have chocolate sauce on your hamburger, but no caffeine until you’re older.”

Okay! Hawk wasn’t the least bit dismayed by this result. In fact, it was outright satisfied.

Alex hid their proud grin by turning toward the fridge, wherein lay meat and chocolate sauce both. Their intuitive talent for slaughter and Morgan’s cunning—even if its best friend was a baby hero, their kid was going to fuck up so much shit!

#S&D tier #alex stewart #alex s tier #hawk the zeranid #fanfiction #my fic

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tinysweetnight · 1 month

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Thinking about it. Might as well do a world-building updates once in a while, just talking.

So what’s TinySweetNight up too? Let me tell you about it in small bullet lists containing updates about each world I have (if can be applied).

Vivarium

Newest world-building project to date. I seriously haven’t actually created a world I plan to stick with since STC and Pantheon like.. 4 years ago? I think Pantheon might be older but that is debatable if you go by which has the oldest character.

This world is like a perfect balance of interests for me personally, it’s an alchemist steampunk world that has almost like a Jim Henson crossed with treasure planet vibe. Homunculi, stained glass windows, bright open skies, and a bit of evil science.

First time I am experimenting with standard fantasy races like Elves, Orcs, Dwarves, etc.

I’ll have to dedicate a post solely for this because it’ll take me a while to explain the magic system here.

Pantheon

Everyone gets animal hands!!! And also an animal form unless your Calypso. I think this ties things better than having very strange specific rules about everything, this is supposed to be fairytale-like. Plus I should make the gods stronger.

Maybe removing Kostas and Aegeus. I love those suckers but, again, they make things too overly complicated and their influence has only been in backstory stuff, never in the main story- besides from a small one-off story with Mars, heir to Alynth. But I think I can remove them if I just say magic is just a bitch like that, monsters are might be Locke’s fault since he’s the god of magic. (But oh, Aegeus banter headcanons are so so funny) I would also have to figure out a different skill set for Charis if I do remove them.

Hydra finally got a title, aka what they were supposed to be the god of. Judgement!

Maverick is still not a catboy and never will be a catboy.

STC

Honestly, still pretty burnt out from this. Everything doesn’t seem.. good. Too edgy. Maybe I’m growing out of aahhhh blood, gore, fun spooks, etc. That usually doesn’t bother me as I’m a fan of campy slashers, but all the time it feels like the characters aren’t acting right. I can’t get them right when I think about them or plan anything with them, especially pertaining to Zstlo. There’s too much I want him to be but it’s all conflicting.

Maybe there is too much stuff going on in the STC, but that’s the point since it’s my sandbox do what I want, I’m not limiting myself to rules world. I have been thinking of boxing storylines into named stories so I can better manage everything.

But there is also the side that everyone else.. seems to like it way more than me. Maybe because I interact with people way more about it, and I found that people seem to like it way more than Pantheon because you get these crazy cool ideas, the setting itself is awesome, and the characters I come up with are cool in concept. But idk. I wish Pantheon or I hope Vivarium gets the same attention. Maybe it’s because Pantheon is more of a story than a setting other people can mess around in. Idk how Vivarium will turn out.

Outlander that is physically apart of the STC and rips open reality.

WhatsMyFace? Added.

Shepard got edgier but same problem as Zstlo.

#tinysweet talks #this kinda turned into a rant at points #worldbuilding

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 year

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Cold Comforts

Prompts: Sorry if this is too much, but do you think you could maybe do another hurt Roman fic. I absolutely eat that stuff up. My idea what the after POF Roman just disappears. He’s not in his room, the mind palace, the house. The others think they’ve checked the imagination to its full extent, but they miss one part (but you can’t necessarily blame them). Roman has trapped himself in a hidden and/or invisible castle on his half of the imagination. Slowly, he begins to fade/disappear, believing the others would be better off without him. But, as he goes, so do the things that belong to him. Items in his room start to go missing. Small trinkets turn to computers and posters. Computers and posters turn into chairs and furniture. Furniture turns into literally every single thing in his room, and then that turns into the room itself. Roman won’t disappear until everything he’s tied to does. That means his room disappears, the gifts he’s given others vanish, the videos he’s featured in start to glitch and have to be taken down, his writing and art are nowhere to be found. Everything he’s made in the imagination goes poof, but that also means that castle he’s made to ‘protect’ himself. Since that’s last things that needed to go, Roman is on the brink of disappearing forever when everyone finds him. I would write it but I just don’t have a lot of motivation right now, and I’m so tired my writing comes off as gibberish. I don’t mind any ships, but I’m definitely leaning towards found family and I really love how you write the creativitwins. That’s all I really have. Throw however much angst in as you want. I just like projecting onto imaginary characters :) thanks - anon

hi again! i’m still obsessed with your Roman angst writing. Amazing, by the way ☺️ I hope you don’t mind me asking for more. So how about some Logince where Logan and Roman have a heated argument that results in Logan snapping at Roman. Roman is scared off by that and sinks out while Logan regrets his actions. Roman then avoids Logan all day and doesn’t talk to him. Until later in the middle of the night when Logan finds Roman crying on the kitchen floor and eating Crofters. Logan then takes that chance to make things right and learns a lot more about Roman. Some concerning stuff and some interesting stuff. I hope that isn’t too much! Keep up the good writing, friendo! - lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, ducking out kind of

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5151

Some arguments between Logan and Roman stay as little bits of contention.

Logan will bring up a point and Roman will read it wrong; either he'll make a joke that won't be received well or he'll take it as an insult when it wasn't intended that way. Logan will explain what he meant and the two of them will settle a little, at least until they can get back into the flow of the conversation and move past it.

Or Roman will let slip a comment he should've kept to himself and Logan will draw himself up, at least until Roman can apologize and claw it back, or he'll smirk and let loose a quip of his own and forgiveness will go unstated. They'll bounce off of each other until the conversation gets back on the rails.

This isn't one of those arguments.

"If you were capable of seeing reason, we wouldn't be in this position in the first place."

"Oh, and you think that just because you're Logic that you hold the monopoly on rationality?"

"Yes. By definition."

Roman throws his hands up, almost knocking over some of the papers. "So why do the rest of us even bother? Matter of fact, why do you even bother with the rest of us? If we're so unteachable and ridiculous?"

"Believe me, I've had the same thought many times." Logan juts his chin upward and looks down his nose at Roman. "Although some of you are more teachable than others."

"Oh, here we go again! 'Roman's stupid, Roman's dumb, Roman's un-teachable—'"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to! It's written all over your stupid prideful face every single time I say something that doesn't line up perfectly with what you want to hear!"

"Resorting to exceedingly childish insults isn't making you look any better."

"Yeah, well, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Perhaps take a breath and listen to me so then I can explain why you're wrong."

"But I'm not wrong. Maybe you should take a breath and listen to me."

Logan laughs, loud and cruel. "I should listen to you? When I need to fill my head with nonsense I have much better sources for it."

"Nonsense?"

"Yes, Roman, nonsense. This is nonsense, right now. We should have been finished about half an hour ago but you keep insisting that—"

"Because you don't know about this!" Roman gestures emphatically to the papers scattered about the table. "You don't know how to do this, you don't know how to come up with things like I do, so you have to come to me! And you have to listen to me!"

"I don't have to do anything, Roman."

"Well, if you want a halfway decent idea, then yeah, actually, you do."

Logan's mouth twitches and his hand tenses on his pen. "Arrogance is not going to do a better job of convincing me than insults."

"I'm not being arrogant, I'm telling you the truth."

"Thinking yourself irrevocably better than someone else is arrogance. Or have you somehow forgotten the meaning of the word?"

"I know what it means, don't patronize me. How come you get to be Logic and say that no one else is capable of rational thought but I can't say I'm Creativity and thus I'm naturally better at coming up with things?"

"Because I didn't say that no one else was capable of rational thought. I said that you of all people are incapable of seeing reason."

"What the hell's the difference?"

Logan smiles smugly, sitting up a little straighter. "Perhaps if you were capable of understanding reason I wouldn't need to explain it to you."

Roman growls, his hands curling into fists and Logan raises a scolding eyebrow.

"Careful, Roman. You're letting your emotions get the better of you. Again."

"I'm letting—you're antagonizing me!"

"I'm not sure you know what that word means either."

"I don't—don't you sit there and tell me I don't know what an antagonist is," Roman splutters, pointing a finger like a dagger at Logan, "and you don't have the high ground right now either."

"Why not?"

"You're insulting me as often as I'm insulting you!"

"So you can admit you've been insulting me."

Roman fumes. "So have you!"

"No. I have been pointing out facts."

"Insulting facts."

"Facts are most often insulting to people who lack the intellectual capacity to understand them."

"Lack the—are you capable of going a single sentence without calling me stupid?"

"Go a single sentence without being stupid and I won't have to."

"And here I thought you were supposed to be useful."

The room stills. Logan's face freezes for a moment and Roman winces internally. That's a button he shouldn't have pressed. Sure, maybe he wanted to needle Logan for making him so upset but he shouldn't have gone there. That's a sore spot that hasn't healed yet. He should apologize. He should apologize right now.

"I—"

"I am useful," Logan says, his voice dangerously low.

"Logan, I—"

"You, on the other hand," he continues, ignoring Roman's attempt to apologize, "are nothing but a waste of time."

Any words Roman may have had in his throat choke off. He gulps around empty air, staring at Logan.

"Are you capable of thinking of anyone but yourself? Do you understand that you are not so important that everything revolves around you?" Logan hasn't stood up, but the way he's just glaring at Roman makes it feel like he's looming over him. "You think yourself, what, some great presence or some great menace that I have to vanquish?"

Scrabbling for words in a filling grave, Roman grabs a chunk of dirt that buries him alive.

"I'm not Remus."

Logan's eyes flash dangerously. "No, Roman. You are not Remus. Remus has a function. Remus serves a purpose. And Remus, despite what you think of him—"

I love him. I love him, he's my brother, he's my Remus. I'm sorry, Re, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry.

"—is actually capable of listening to reason. You, Roman, you are not. At best you are a nuisance and a mild inconvenience, one easily dealt with and not worth the time it takes to do so."

He takes a moment to collect himself.

"I am busy. I cannot afford to waste time on you. If you are so determined to thrill me with impossible feats, go and find somewhere you are wanted."

Roman's chest burns.

He stares wordlessly at Logan, who just stares back at him. Against all hopes he wants Logan to take it back, the way he was going to, to apologize or realize what he just said or something, something, but he doesn't. He just stares at Roman and glares and then he turns away.

He packs up his things and leaves.

Roman is left alone.

He stares after him for a long time, still in shock. The words bounce around and around his head like bullets ricocheting off metal plates only to score grazes in every surface. They replay over and over and over until they threaten to swallow him whole.

He's not stupid. He's not stupid. He knows that there are ways to draw attention to himself that aren't good and that he—he can be a nuisance sometimes. And in being a nuisance, he's cultivated an atmosphere where the lack of him is to be looked forward to. But he—he's not stupid. He knows that where that comes from is the opposite; everything he's done, every part of the persona he's crafted, is in defiance of that invisibility.

This isn't a revelation, he realizes, but the difference between knowing and knowing. The kind that gets sobbed into your pillow in the dead of night.

And in that petty, spiteful, semantic kind of defiance that children are so often accused of, he sinks out to his room because that's where Patton said he wants him to stay.

He stumbles around the room in a state of shock, clumsy and inelegant and utterly irredeemable, knocking into his bookshelf and his desk and almost tripping over a notebook he left lying on the floor. He strips off the prince costume and throws it away like it burns to touch, staggering to the bed in nothing but undershirt and boxers and crawling under the covers.

He shouldn't be doing this. He's just proving Logan right. But he doesn't want to be something other than he is right now and if Logan thinks he's a stupid child that throws temper tantrums and sulks when he doesn't get his way, then he's allowed to curl up into a ball and clutch his hand to his chest. It's still hurting, the words still dragging themselves over his exposed nerves, and he curls up around it like he could offer it protection.

He should go to someone, he knows. They've all been trying to get better about asking for help and support. He should get up and go—but who would he go to?

Patton would want to hear everything that happened and he'd be scolded for being so mean to Logan. Patton would make him go apologize right then and there and he doesn't think he could bear going anywhere near Logan right now.

Virgil would take Logan's side immediately, he's sure of it. Virgil calls him stupid all the time, he'd probably be happy that someone finally told you like it is, Princey, deal with it.

Janus would take Logan's side too. Not because he'd necessarily agree with him—even though he would—but because it's not Roman's side.

Remus…Remus would hate him.

A pained noise leaves the safety of the covers and Roman only belatedly realizes it's him. He doesn't want to go and expose himself anymore to the possibility of being hurt. He wants to run away and lick his wounds and be upset all by himself. He doesn't want to be accused of being attention-seeking and overdramatic and all of that, doesn't want to be lectured and scolded and then—only then—offered the barest scraps of comfort like a starving animal being tossed a bone. He doesn't want to be hurt and then have them say it's for his own good. He doesn't want that, he doesn't want that, he doesn't want that.

He wants someone to just come and hold him. To say it's okay that he's upset—not even that he was right or that Logan shouldn't have said that or even that it's all going to be okay.

He just wants someone to comfort him. It doesn't have to be big or sweeping or anything, they don't have to stay for a long time, they don't—it doesn't have to be large or—or complicated, he doesn't—he just wants a hug, okay? Or not even a hug, it doesn't have to be a hug, it can just be a touch or something—or not even that, it can just be a—a look, or a nod or—okay, it doesn't even have to be that, okay? He just—he just wants—

He just wants, okay?

Roman's eyes start to grow heavy and he curls up tighter, limp and aching fingers brushing against his face as he almost nuzzles into his hand. He moves his head until he can get his nose tucked into the space under his thumb and feel the shuddering of his own breath against his palm. Oh, he wants and wants and wants and in the safety of the covers he can pretend.

"Shh," he mumbles in a half-voice that he's more thinking than saying, "shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay."

He brushes his lips against the skin there and it almost feels like a kiss.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay, shh…it's alright. It's okay. It's okay, it's okay." He does it again, trying to narrow his focus down to just that, the gentleness of the touch and the shaking voice from his own throat. "It's alright. Shh, it's alright."

His fingers twitch from a small gust that blows under the blanket and he moves, pressing it deeper into the chasm between his chest and the bed and lets his breath blow warm and stuffy over the skin again.

"Shh-shh-shh," he warbles in broken half-tones, "it's okay, it's okay, it's okay."

Slowly, he works himself back from the brink, mumbling the half-comfort to his hand until the thought of moving no longer threatens to tear him apart. He keeps at it as he drags himself from beneath the covers, as he drags on a t-shirt and shorts, mumbling that it's okay, we just have to go get something to eat, then we can come back and sleep. He keeps the hand pressed to his chest, holding his breath as he creeps down the stairs.

It's late. Well past midnight. The others are likely gone to their separate corners of the Mindscape. Had he the wherewithal to notice he might feel ridiculous, stealing away like a thief in the night as he makes his way to his own kitchen, but all he has space for is the lifeline of comfort that he still murmurs in the darkness.

"Just a little further," he mumbles, "almost there."

The kitchen looms in sharp lines and cold surfaces. He lumbers in and goes to the cabinet, reaching up for the one food he knows he can eat. The fingers on his useful hand brush against the cool glass of the Crofter's bottle and he takes it down, slumping to the floor and curling up, only belatedly realizing he didn't grab a spoon and groping around until he can get one.

It's his jar, almost empty, but just enough left that if he eats it he can make it until morning.

The spoon clinks and rattles as he props the jar up in his lap, eating clumsily until he can scrape the spoon around the edges and get the last of it. He starts crying somewhere in the middle and he only notices because it starts to taste salty.

Almost done, he thinks to his hand, almost there. It's okay. Shh, shh, it's okay.

He's just about to throw the empty jar away and skulk back to his room when the stairs creak.

Don't come here. Oh, god, please don't come in here.

The footsteps get closer. He curls up tighter, thinking maybe he won't be seen in the dark. They get closer.

A shadow looms in the sliver of light from the window.

Don't see me. Please don't see me.

A figure rounds the corner and stops, staring down at him. Its eyes narrow behind glasses as it sees the jar clutched in Roman's hands.

Logan doesn't get the chance to say anything before Roman is gone.

He drops into some random part of the Imagination and just runs. His bare feet cry out in protest as he runs over jagged rocks and sharp stones but he pushes onward. His hand lies useless in the wind, just aching from the memory of harsh words and the panic of being discovered by Logan. The frightened animal that lives in his brain digs its teeth into the soft part of his heart and makes him run faster, faster, faster.

Somewhere he's wanted. Somewhere he's wanted. Somewhere he's wanted.

Unbeknownst to him, the Imagination is building him something. A tall tower, high enough that its head loses itself in the clouds, invisible save for the way clouds can't pass through it, where he can curl up in a small room and be far away from everyone else. It waits until he collapses from sheer exhaustion, carrying him up, up, up, closing itself around him until he's locked in.

Roman doesn't notice any of that. He's too busy curled around his hand again, trying to murmur to it, comfort it, drag himself out of this ache again. He chokes on the words it's okay and it's alright and so he gasps out shh, shh, shh.

Sobs force their way out of his throat and it just hurts. He keeps trying, struggling to shush them, to shush his hand, to shush himself, to give himself something, anything, just to make it stop.

But his hand is just a hand and the pain is just pain. There's no tragedy in it, no pity in it, nothing redeemable or salvageable from the mess he's made.

He really is stupid.

* * *

A jar, discarded and empty on the kitchen floor. It clinks as it rolls over the boards until it comes to a stop, resting in the shadow of the stove.

Its label, half rubbed away from being handled, still clings stubbornly to the glass. One of the letters is still visible, just slightly, the single 'R' barely more than an outline in the faint light from the windows.

The lid is still up on the counter, laid on its back, cold and alone on the flat surface. The jar is somewhere else, air blowing through the empty spaces where it should be.

It fades away as the morning sun dawns, still empty.

* * *

"Hey, Pat," Virgil calls as he walks downstairs, "have you seen Roman?"

Patton frowns, glancing around the living room. "No, I haven't. Why?"

"Something really weird is happening and I think it's his fault."

"What's going on?"

Virgil comes into the kitchen and holds up his phone. One of their videos is playing but as they watch, it starts to glitch, skipping back and forth as though someone's dragging the slider.

"Huh. That's weird."

"Right?"

"Why do you think Roman has something to do with this?"

"'Cause all the parts it's skipping are the parts with him in it. And look at this." Virgil taps through a menu. "See?"

The thumbnails with Roman in them are conspicuously missing a certain prince. Patton puts his hands on his hips. "Well, that is strange."

"That's what I said. So yeah, we need to find him."

"I haven't seen him in a few days, I don't think. I guess I thought he was busy."

"Well, great, who was the last person to see him?"

"See who?"

"Do not do that," Virgil grumbles, helping himself up from the stair rail as Janus strides from the shadows, "you'll make me break something."

"Oh, relax, you're fine."

Virgil mutters something decidedly unflattering and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Have you seen Roman?"

"Not for a while, no." He frowns. "Why, is something wrong?"

They show him what's happening to the videos and he hums.

"That's…that's not good."

"No, it isn't."

"We need to find Remus."

"Wait, what? Why Remus?"

"He's the one who'll most likely know what Roman's done to cause this." Janus is already striding away. "Come on. We need to hurry."

They do, because as they walk they realize that Roman's poster is gone. Then his paintings. They break into a run when they see that his door is no longer bright red.

"Remus," Janus barks as they tear into the other living room, "Remus, we need you now."

As soon as Remus appears they know he knows already. He's almost frothing at the mouth, his hands itching around his Morningstar as he glares at them.

"What did you do," he snarls, "where is he?"

"We were coming to ask you," Virgil says, his hands raised, "we haven't seen him. We don't know."

Remus glares at all of them before looking at Janus, who nods. "He's Fading. He's trying to disappear. We need to find him now."

"Wait, Fading? What's that mean?"

"Like ducking out but worse, 'cause he's Creativity and I'll be happy to explain this once he's back. Now who saw him last?"

"Not me," Patton says, "I only saw him at breakfast a few days ago with everyone."

"That's the last time I saw him too."

"Janus?"

"We met up briefly to discuss a show but he had to leave early. Said he was…"

Remus growls as Janus trails off. "Said he was what?"

"…meeting with Logan. He had to go meet with Logan."

No sooner has Janus finished speaking, Remus reaches out a hand and yanks. A body falls to the ground in front of him.

"Start talking, bitch boy," he snarls, stalking over to loom over Logan, "what the fuck did you do to my brother?"

"I didn't—I don't know—"

An animalistic roar leaves Remus's throat and he hefts the Morningstar, ready to bring it down when Virgil catches his wrist.

"Hey, hey, easy! If you hurt him, we won't find out what happened!"

"He hurt Roman."

"We don't know that for sure, Remus, just—just take a second, okay?"

"I don't care—"

"Look at him," Janus interrupts quickly, "Remus, look at him."

Remus growls and tears himself free from Virgil's hold but does. Logan is still on the ground, his hands raised in surrender, glasses askew on his face. His shirt is dirty, tie mussed and torn, scratches on his arms and neck.

Wait.

"You were looking for him," Remus spits, "in the Imagination, weren't you?"

Logan swallows. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're right. He's Fading and he's not anywhere else and that's the only place he can be but I don't know where else to look."

"Why is he Fading," Patton asks as Virgil has to hold Remus back again, "what happened?"

Janus gives Logan a warning look as he opens his mouth.

"…we had an argument."

"I get into arguments with Princey all the time," Virgil says sharply, "they don't end with Roman Fading."

"I may have said some things."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"I—we're running out of time, we need to find him—ah!"

Remus, quicker than Virgil, shoots forward and pins Logan to the wall, Morningstar thrust against his chest. Logan winces as the spikes dig into him and Remus just growls.

"If you do not tell me exactly what you said to him," he says in a calm voice, "you and I are gonna run a little experiment on how hard it is to break the human spine."

Logan swallows. "I…I called him stupid. I said he—that he was incapable of listening to reason and that he—he should go somewhere where he was wanted."

"Why," Virgil growls, "in the fuck did you do that?"

"I was angry," he defends weakly, "I—I didn't mean it, I just wanted to hurt him��"

"Congratulations," Janus says lowly, "you did. You hurt him so badly he wants to disappear."

"I didn't know that," Logan says impatiently, "and I was trying to fix it! I went and looked for him the moment I'd calmed down enough to realize it was wrong and he wasn't anywhere! I only managed to find him that night in the kitchen and he vanished before I could say a thing!"

"Remus," Janus says softly, pulling Remus back, "we need to look in the Imagination. You know it better than the rest of us, where is he?"

Remus glares at Logan one more time before stalking to the door and ripping it open. "He's going to be hidden. The Imagination is him when he gets like this, if he's scared and hurt it's going to protect him."

But the Imagination they step into isn't rolling fields or towering castles or fairytale woods. It's glitching messes of clumps of grass and loose bricks, a white and lifeless sky overhead. Remus growls and breaks into a run.

"Look for anything that is still intact," he barks over his shoulder, "that'll be the last to go."

They run for hours.

A broken scarecrow, its arms dangling by the thinnest splinter as a crow glitches in and out of existence.

A frog, frozen mid-leap as its legs reach for nothing.

A bridge, splintered and torn by something massive except all that's left of it are shards of wooden boards.

They're losing him.

"There," Virgil shouts, pointing, "the tower!"

A single tower, the only thing still intact, stretching as high as the clouds, its shadow as long and thin as a needle as it pierces the last of the ground. They race towards it and crash through the door.

"Whoa!"

"I've got you, I've got you."

"Is everyone alright?"

"Don't fall!"

For there are no stairs inside this tower. Only a bottomless pit that stretches into yawning nothingness. Remus blocks the path with his body, Janus's arms around his waist as Logan and Virgil cling to the crumbling walls.

"How the hell do we get up there?"

"We climb."

"You can't be serious."

Remus hoslters the Morningstar star and digs his hands into the brick. He hoists himself up and glances down. "Sooner or later the rest of this is gonna go. You wanna be down here when it does or you wanna be closer to Roman?"

Brick by brick.

Hand over hand.

Inch by inch.

When Remus finally touches smooth wood, feeling around for the latch of the trapdoor, he shoves it open and they pile in, panting from the effort of it as he looks desperately around for Roman.

In the center of the room, surrounded by a wooden shell, is a pile of blankets and pillows. If he strains, he can hear quiet mutters coming from within. Leaving the others on the floor, he stands up and cautiously makes his way over, crouching down and peeling back the very top layer.

"Oh, Ro…"

Roman lies there, curled into a ball, cobwebs and dust caked on his skin. The only parts free from it are his face and one of his hands, his lips moving just enough to let air circulate and blow it away. Tear tracks are evident in the soot, his voice so overtaxed only the faintest sounds still audible.

Just enough to make them out.

"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay. Shh. Shh. It's alright. Shh."

A lump rises in Remus's throat and he reaches out shakily, pulling the covers away. "Roro, Roro, it's me. It's me, Ro-Bro, I'm here."

Nothing.

"Roman, it's me," he tries desperately, "Ro-Bro, Ro, Roman!"

"Roman?"

"Roman, it's us."

"Open your eyes, little prince, we're here, it's okay."

Roman twitches slightly as Janus speaks but doesn't stir.

"Why isn't it working? What do we have to do?"

Remus shakes him harder. "Roman, wake up!"

"It won't work."

They all turn to stare at Logan.

"What do you mean," Remus hisses, "that it won't work?"

"He needs to be comforted," Logan says, slowly approaching the shell too, "he—he's trying to comfort himself. Let me try."

Virgil glances at Remus and tugs Patton and Janus back. Remus glares at him but doesn't stop him.

"If you fuck this up—"

"Then I'm your lab rat, I know."

"Good."

Logan takes a deep breath and looks in.

Oh, little one, he thinks as he takes in Roman's poor state, oh, I never meant for this, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

He lifts a shaking hand and fits it clumsily around Roman's.

"Shh," he murmurs, "shh, shh, it's okay. It's alright. It's alright. Shh, shh."

Roman's hand twitches.

"It's okay," he says again, "shh-shh-shh, it's okay. You're alright. It's all okay."

Roman stills, then slumps. Logan fits his other hand to his face, not wincing at how cold it is.

"You're okay," he keeps saying softly, "shh, little one, you're okay. It's alright. It's okay."

The ground rumbles. Color begins to bleed back into the sky. Logan leans down and puts his mouth to Roman's ear.

"I'm sorry, little one," he whispers, "I'm sorry, it's okay. Shh, shh, I'm sorry."

"It's working!"

"Keep going, Logan, it's working."

"Come on, Roman, you can do it."

"Shh, little one, it's okay." He runs his fingers through Roman's hair, shaking loose the dust and debris. "It's all okay now."

Slowly, painfully slowly, he coaxes Roman's Imagination back to life. He brushes away the dust and the cobwebs and murmurs that it's okay, you're alright now, it's going to be alright. Every word that leaves his lips leaves Roman looking a little more like he's just asleep.

He debates with himself for a moment, before leaning up and brushing a kiss across Roman's temple.

"I'm right here."

Something shudders.

"Roman?"

Roman's eyes flutter and slowly open. "L-Logan?"

"Hello, little one," he whispers, "it's okay. I'm here now."

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @ultrageekygirl

#sanders sides #dragonbabbles #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #janus sander #fic

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imaginethistime · 2 years

Text

Squish

“C’mere.” You pat the spot next to you on the couch. Izuku looks around and then sits somewhat next to you. “Closer, I want to squish and cuddle you.”

While you had always been this comfortable with everyone Izuku was the target of your affections. You wanted to be close to him as often as possible. “Please.” You add. Slowly Izuku scoots closer to you. “Better, but Izuku it’s not really cuddling if you stay tensed up like that.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I just don’t really feel comfortable.” You sigh, but you wanted to respect his boundaries.

“That’s okay Izuku, I did want to cuddle you, but if you don’t want that's okay. But can I lay my head on your lap? I’m really tired today.”

He moves away from you, “I g-guess,” He manages to stutter out.

“If you’re uncomfortable just let me know, I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable okay,” You lay your head on his lap, your close proximity to him causes Izuku to flush a deep shade of red. “Tell me about your day.”

Slowly Izuku begins to relax as he goes into detail about how he was able to use more of his quirk today and able to hone his ultimate move. While you didn’t quite understand why you knew that Izuku’s quirk was much newer to him than yours. You had been able to use your quirk since you were a small child. But from what you had observed Izuku’s quirk manifested itself sometime just before entering UA. While you hadn’t seen it yourself and only saw what happened in school, you heard that he had broken nearly every bone in his body during the entry test.

Without realizing Izuku had begun combing his fingers through your hair as he spoke. It was a nice feeling, and you knew if you mentioned it he would stop so you didn’t. “Izuku... what’s your quirk? Why do you get hurt by it so easily?”

He looks down at you, “Well, Y/N I’m not even really sure what to call it. I just know that sometimes it’s too powerful for even me to use and if I’m not careful I might lose the use of my arms.”

The thought pained you, you could see how deeply Izuku wanted to be a hero and save people. If he lost the use of his arms, he could never fulfill that dream. You could tell that he really went through hardships to even be here at UA.

“Izuku can you promise me something?”

“What Y/N?”

“When you’re the top hero will you still remember me? I might not be a big hero with a name for myself. But knowing that you won’t forget me, is all I need.”

“Of, c-course Y/N! I could never forget you.”

The way he says it makes your heart skip a beat. His big green eyes staring down at you so sincerely. You had always been the one to express your feelings never holding back, so why did he make you so nervous all of a sudden. You knew you liked him, and you made it clear.

“Y/N, I-I” he leans down almost as if he’s going to kiss you.

Just then Bakugo bursts the door to the main room open shouting, “Deku!”

“Kachan!” Izuku smiles sweetly. God you loved this boy.

Wait- did I just. Oh, my god I do. I do love him. You quickly sit up as blood rushes to your cheeks. With the new realisation you suddenly don't know how to act. As Bakugo continues to yell at Deku you mutter a good bye and leave to your dorm. Once down the hall and out of site, you lean against the wall and let out a sigh.

Not once in your life had you ever been nervous talking to someone, it was probably in part due to your quirk which gave you the ability of persuasion all you had to do was look them in the eyes, so you became so used to being forward that you never had any reason to be nervous.

Again realisation dawns on you. Oh no, I was projecting again wasn’t I? You thought that Izuku had wanted to kiss you, but now you understand. You had looked into his eyes and subconsciously persuaded him. You thought that you had your quirk well under control as the last time you had projected was when you just ten years old.

With the weight of your new understanding on you, you cant help but let out a small silent sob. You wipe away the tears that had begun forming. You don’t want to let anyone see you cry, you were always perceived in an aloof manner and you wanted to keep it that way. It was easy for people to be afraid of you and your quirk, if you wanted to you could have complete control over others and they would never remember what happened. So it was easier that way.

You feels the tears coming back and run the rest of the way to your dorm.

Just before you reach your door you bump into Hagakure. You were glad it was only her, she was the only person you could one hundred percent never control, but that didn't mean you wanted to let her see you cry.

“Sorry-” You open your door and quickly close it behind you as the sobs wrack your body. “God, how could I have been so so stupid? Of course he doesn't like me, I mean he won’t even cuddle me-” You stop mid sentence, suddenly resolved to distance yourself. He would never need to know that, you had persuaded him, after all he wouldn't remember what happened while he was under your quirk.

You spend the rest of the night in your room not even coming out for dinner, Hagakure comes by a few times but you don’t answer.

The next morning you leave your room with sunglasses on planning on not taking them off until quirk training class. If I can’t look someone in the eye then I cant persuade them.

That is until you sit down in class. You look over at Izuku as he mutters to himself. Probably trying to figure where he lost time yesterday. “Oh, sweet sunglasses.” Before you can even stop him Kaminari has already taken them off your face and put them on his. You don’t bother asking for them back as you know you won’t get them.

Instead you put your face between your arms and place you head on your desk.

“Hey, Y/N?” Izuku nudges you.

“Yeah?” You don't move from your spot resolved to not look him in the eye.

“Uh- um c-could you look at me for a sec?”

“I uh- I’d really rather not- I just um...” You trail off, and look up any ways trying not to make direct eye contact.

“Uh, okay um- Y/N I realised something yesterday...” He takes a deep breath.

Oh, god he know, he hates me. I would be okay if he never returned my feelings but if he really hates me-

He pulls flowers from behind his back, “Ireallyreallylikeyou!” He yells in one breath. You can hardly comprehend what’s just been said to you. If, he said this today, after not having looked you in the eyes is it really possible that he truly feels this way?

Or did your quirk manifest a stronger hold? With out answering you look Kaminari in the eyes and persuade him to give you your sunglasses that he was now twirling on his finger. You could only persuade one person at a time, so if Izuku truly liked you he would still be standing there, offering you the flowers.

He’s put the flowers down and is now staring sheepishly at the ground. So you were right. It was all just part of your quirk- He raises the flowers once more, “ and I was wondering if you maybe like me too? I mean i know you are touchy feely with everyone but it felt different with me and I dunno I just though that maybe-” God, you loved him. his ramblings were so cute. You silence him with a small kiss on the cheek.

“Yes!” You shout and Aizawa wakes up from his sleeping bag on the floor. “ I do like you Izuku, in fact so much so that I was worried that I had accidentally persuaded you into liking me.” You whisper. The weight was off your shoulders, and for once trusting someone with the insecurities that came with your quirk you feel lighter.

“You would never need to persuade me Y/N, I liked you since the first time I saw you sitting in front of me on the first day of school. That’s why I was always so uncomfortable,”

“Goodness, we’re not the brightest are we? all this time and we could’ve been together if we’d just gotten out of our own way.” You say and pull Izuku in for a real kiss this time.

Aizawa clears his throat and you reluctantly pull away.

“Hey, Y/N I lost your sunglasses I don’t know where they went...” Kaminari whispers.

#izuku midoriya #soft kisses #wholesome #Quirk #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia #my hero x reader #DekU #fluff #angst

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hologramcowboy · 2 years

Note

Part of the reason that Jensen’s voiceover sounds so bad in TW trailer is poor production quality. The audio is too loud, the sound quality itself poor (like recording yourself on your phone vs professional sound booth) and it seems out of sync with the visuals.

You have to remember that this project is obviously poorly funded. The prequel was leaked last June in an attempt to get investors, and that very clearly failed. I imagine they’re just working with the funding that the CW gave them, which isn’t going to be a ton because they’re in the middle of being bought out. Signs that the budget just isn’t there:

Actors with few to no credits to their name that can be paid less because they don’t have the backing to demand higher pay, are afraid to negotiate for it or simply don’t know any better yet and think they’re getting a good deal. And look at who is working behind the scenes- all CW affiliated workers who were announced as attached to the project very late in the game. The CW pretty much reuses the same producers, directors, costume designers etc for everything, so it’s pretty weird that it took so long to get people for the project. My guess is that they were having a hard time finding people who wanted to work on it. And it shows, the wardrobe department didn’t even try.

The stunts and special effects seen in the trailer (where the Ackles were meant to showcase the best parts of the pilot) were poorly done and outdated. Even by TV standards. The prequel is on par with the 2010 Twilight parody “Vampires Suck” quality wise.

The quality of the filming itself looks cheap. Jensen has talked a lot about the cinematography for The Winchesters, what lens they’ve used and how they wanted it to be lit different to distinguish it from Supernatural and the present day. I guess he forgot that later seasons Supernatural were all filmed in that same blue tone he used for the prequel, and that nothing about the lighting screams vintage. It actually looks like several other shows on the CW currently, so it’s more likely he’s just using equipment borrowed from Nancy Drew and passing it off as an artistic choice rather than a necessity.

The music used in the trailer. For a show that’s supposed to embody the 70s with the protagonists getting together over their mutual love for rock and roll, there sure was a lack of rock and roll or even any music from the 70s. Why? Because that music is very expensive. That’s why the music from the trailer sounds like the CW bought the rights for it back in 2008 for One Tree Hill, forgot to use it, so it ended up being used for The Winchesters. I’m surprised that Jensen didn’t use music from Radio Company, but I’m sure that will come. He’s used it on Supernatural and the episode of Walker he directed, there’s no way he’s not going to use it on a show he produces.

Beyond the budget which at this point is fixed (Upfronts are for advertisers, producers already had their chance to appeal for funding either from the network or outside investors) the bringing on of a new producer is not a good sign. Especially because it’s McG who is known for and has gone on record saying that he only comes on projects to clean them up/save them. Jensen’s comments about sitting in his car, producing being boring because your only job is to put out fires, come off even worse now. It’s obvious that Jensen had no clue what went into being a producer, he was used to it being a vanity credit that actors get so that they get a higher pay without technically getting a raise. And that’s really bitten him. The producer is in charge of getting funding (Jensen’s first failure), getting the project rolling (finding casting directors, being involved in the final stages of casting, finding writers and going over scripts etc) and sticking around while the project is being filmed to ensure that things not only go smoothly, but in the direction you want them to.

It’s very telling that a project descended from an established, money making IP wasn’t given a good budget and doesn’t have any care being put into it. The CW and the Ackles thought that the Supernatural association and Jensen would be enough to bring in the audience, and now they’re scrambling because they’ve been proven wrong.

I'm in awe of this post. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 Beautifully expressed, grounded in reality, full of detail and I could have never explained all of that so clearly and effectively. Thank you, Anon.

#anti SPN prequel #anti the winchesters #jensen critical

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milo-is-rambling · 1 year

Text

I see my fathers corpse when I close my eyes. Words I never thought would leave my mouth are now exiting. I am begging to some higher power I do not believe in to make this all stop. I am holding the knife to my chest to my hips to my throat. I do not split the skin. I stare at old scars, I tug at my scalp. I pick my cuticles until I cannot move without breaking fresh skin. Days pass faster and slower than ever before. My mother is doing better with her husbands death than I am doing with my fathers. I didn’t even like him when he was alive. He is burning a hole into my chest. This large ache I cannot fill. I need to find another angry horrible man to fit into this space. I fear I am taking the role myself. I am bitter I am lost I am cursing the gods I am driving myself off the bridge I am screaming until my throat is raw I am smiling telling my mother what to wear on her date and when she leaves I collapse in on myself like a dying star. I am sucking everything into my darkness and calling it love, calling it rebirth, calling it redemption. I am struggling and wearing it as a badge of honor. After you have survived a suicide attempt you can see yourself as a god among men. I cannot hold a job or someone’s hand. But I am alive. I am still breathing and that in itself is my religion. I cannot get myself to cry even if I wanted to but the second I open my mouth and speak of him i feel an itch at the back of my throat my chin is wiggling I am holding back the tears as they threaten to pour over. I am all anger and sadness. We used to say my father only had one emotion and it was anger I am his little girl I am his disappointment I was nothing and he loved me despite despite despite. He never liked my brother after he went to college I feared that if I ever went away and came back he would hate me too. I never left. Dropped out of high school and spent most days talking to him. I saw through this emotional mask. I sat in the back of the car last January while my parents smoked and talked. My father talked about his father. My mother reminded him that we are no longer children. I sat in silence. I felt I could’ve been strapped into a car seat, pitifully small. My mother passed me the joint as my father tears up. She didn’t notice. He put all this effort into being likeable when we were young and once we formed our own personalities and weren’t parroting him he decided he didn’t care anymore.

Am I the same way? Am I growing away from my friends or are they no longer playing into my ego and I’m just as miserable as my father. I need to catch my breath. I need to remind myself what is real. I need to forget where we keep the knives. I need to forget where he kept the knives. I need to forget that he held the knife out to me and was proud when I took it in my hand. He wanted me to be angry. He trained me like a fucking dog. Every peer a competition every teacher a source of praise every stranger a friend every family member an enemy. His go to advice was “beat them up” I carried it with me through high school. I carried this violence in my chest that my parents did not know what to do with. My brother and I threatened each other like it was a sport. I always got the last word. Shocked silence at the dinner table. Storming away. Slamming doors. I was the violent presence in my house it was never my father he passed the torch when I was so young that I forgot if it even burned me. I still have the scars to prove that it did. All this violence. Getting scolded when I projected and so I put it all inside. I hacked away at my skin in the dark. Those were the quiet years. Family dinners. Long silences. Friends lost touch. Strangers calling me wonderful things. Strangers years older than me. Men with the same anger in their hearts as me. As my father. Men who talked about fights they got into and how sexy my voice was. I was twelve. I felt wanted for the first time in my whole life. My parents found the messages. Didn’t look me in the eye for two years. I knew what they thought of me. Dirty foul slut who was asking for it. And I was in a way. Asking for power asking for praise asking for anyone to be more broken than me. Is this the price of girlhood? Am I meant to be full of rage? I am still that child watching my mother read through my phone in horror. Listening to her cry through the walls. She asks what she did wrong she asks what she ever did to make me do something like this. The anger in me was something that spread like a disease. My first real girlfriend once got so mad that she smashed her phone with a brick. I had this sick joy in my chest knowing there was someone like me. Is it really sickness when there’s two of us? Partners in crime is still just two criminals. We tore each other apart and left no identifiable evidence. My mother tells me years later that my first girlfriend was crazy. I tell her about the way I treated her. The way I drove her to behave that way. The way I didn’t know what I was doing and so I tore her apart with my teeth. I still have scars on me from the guilt. I use it as an excuse to ignore the way I treated her. I hurt myself because she hurt me. Well who threatened who? Who said they were going to kill themselves because of the way you treated them? Because you were leaving them? I remember my shaky hands calling her mother and telling her to call out of work that night because I was afraid she would do something horrible. That guilt follows me everywhere. Being angry feels like getting in touch with who I was then. Who I hurt and how I hurt myself.

I grew up and lost more friends. Grew more and thought I finally had it figured out. Lost friends again. Each loss felt like a blow to the chest. I wanted so badly to be mad at them. Be mad at anyone but myself. I know I am to blame for the way others react to me. I do not hurt myself but I am constantly thinking about it. Some days I shower just a bit too hot and think about your touch. Some days it’s enough just to think of him. Some days I have to hold the knife in my hands and put it back down again to truly hurt myself. It hurts more to deny myself the blood than it ever did to create these scars. When I hold the knife I am brought back to when it all started. Scale in the bathroom with a notebook beneath it. Weight listings. Up then down then up and up and up again. Couldn’t get it to go back down. The word fat carved into my thigh. It’s mostly faded now but when I hear your knock on the door it all comes rushing back to me. Don’t notice don’t notice don’t notice. Ignore the blood. Ignore the tears. Ignore the way I am shivering under your touch. I deserve this. My mother sits me down at the dining room table. She washes my sliced up arm with alcohol and apologizes for the sting. She wraps me with a long bandage and tells me that just because I cut myself doesn’t mean that I don’t have to do my math homework. I had never wanted to die as badly as I did then. Thirteen and sobbing onto a placemat from dollar tree, better than my tears staining the wood table. My father never got mad at me for being depressed like my mother did. I know somewhere in him the same sadness resided. He may not have cut himself but he found other ways to hurt. He has tried every drug he could get his hands on. He’d pick every fight that wasn’t his to win and haggle until everyone in his life was miserable. It’s a wonder my mom never left him. It’s a wonder she hasn’t left me. When i close my eyes I see my fathers corpse. My greatest loss. My greatest disappointment. Forever wondering what could have been. I wonder if when my mother closes her eyes she sees me instead. Sees me as a young kid with bleeding wrists or as a disgusting slut calling men twenty years older than me Daddy online just for a chance at affection. I wonder what about me disappoints her the most. I still imagine myself dying before her. I do not know what I would do with myself if I had no parents left to disappoint. The knife so close at all times just begging to see the blood. The car full of gas and waiting to be at the bottom of the lake. Maybe I have a problem. Maybe I always have. Maybe it’s hereditary. Maybe it’s all me. Maybe it’s always been me. Maybe the knife is the only family heirloom I have left.

#most depressing poem ever slay

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nosferatu-pvssy · 2 years

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About the concept of "alternative universe" applied to the creation of the vc series.

Disclaimer: if the idea of this series being an au is something you enjoy or if it helps you in some way, then this post isn't about you. I'm just commenting the concept in itself, what I think about this as a way of dealing with radical changes. If you like to think of it as an au, don't mind me because I have nothing against you. I just want to express what I feel for this topic.

Lately I've been noticing that it's becoming a popular practice in many fandoms (so not only ours) to tell other people or to themselves "just take it as if it's an au" every time a umpteenth remake gets made and it's clearly of a lower quality than the original. What I ask myself is: is it really healthy for us fans to tell ourselves that whenever we see the story we love be portrayed by completely discarding the unexpressed potential of the original plot to replace it with what is more convenient for them to insert?

My theory is that this might be a coping mechanism to deal with the big disappointment that the directors are giving you so often that at this point we've reached an era where all the media that is surrounding us lately is only garbage. We literally have only garbage to watch. It's because you're noticing that some big damage has been done to the story or that there's the risk of it happening in the future. Trust your instincts, because they're telling you the truth. If it really was an au for you, you wouldn't have had that "oh, no. What are they doing..." feeling in your heart. You wouldn't have had that moment in which you had to tell yourself "ok, let's say it is an au. It's an au, it's an au..." to fix that sensation of strong disappointment in your heart.

If it was an au for real, the directors would have told the fans that it was. I say that it's a coping mechanism because lately we've been having only tv series and movies about remakes that are produced in great quantity and all at once. This speed in the filming process and oversaturation of the same kind of piece of media will inevitably lower the quality to the point of making it fit only to a very young audience or people with very low expectations. It's like when you hear people talking about how shoes (or any article of clothing, it's just an example) created handmade by expert artisans last longer and look better than shoes that to be producted in such impressive amounts they have to use ultra cheap materials and even cheaper sewing and assembling process to gain the maximum profit with the minimum effort. It wouldn't be possible to create something of high quality in such short times. And the prices are higher for artisans' creations, because you pay the quality of the materials and of the craft, while industrial products will always cost less because they are actually giving you less. The same is happening for shows, and for now I think that's what's happening with The vampire chronicles' one too.

Since I'm very passionate about cinematography, I watched many videos of famous directors and dubbers of classics. In interviews, when it came the moment of answering to questions like "what do you think about the modern style of production?" some of them said things like "I feel that there's a big difference since everything now gets created so fast. When I was younger, every classic had people behind it with great care for the details. And care for details, for quality, always takes time. High speed doesn't allow you to stop frequently to fix what's obsolete. You'd slow down the project."

Now, as I said earlier, if you genuinely like to imagine this show as an au and you're having fun with it, who am I to tell you to stop engaging with it? To stop creating fanarts, ffs, posts of any kind? What am I, a monster? It's ridiculously obvious that you MUST have fun with what you like. For example, I still remember when the news of the Atlantis' book arrived and the fandom got blown away by how crack this was for the story. It was already considered absurd the fact that Lestat had met God himself, so imagine the idea of them meeting MERMAIDS (we still weren't sure about aliens being involved. It was still a rumor at that point). But the idea of imagining them as mermaids was so fun to play with that it became an au and amazing content got created. If you are feeling this excitement, being against your approach would be wrong.

So I am talking to those who expected to have the full (and still for the major part unexplored even in the books) potential of this saga expressed by the tv series, instead of being substituted by the new plot invented by Amc. The ones who felt the pain of the damage that most probably has been done to the original story that Anne Rice fought (maybe a little too much) to make it reach the big screen and that now to convince themselves that there has been no damage at all (and to try to push themselves to like it anyway) they say "it's an au". Or because "it's because we don't have nothing else, so at least if I tell myself that it will be more bearable".

Now what I ask myself is: why are we doing this to ourselves? Why are we bowing our heads and opening our palms to accept the crumbles? Why the crumbles and not the whole meal like we deserve? Because that's what it feels we are gonna have, let's be honest. The crumbles of the original story with the rest completely invented by AMC to conveniently fit in their project to use this tv series to rebrand their channel, mutilating one big horror story to make it fit into the smaller box for tv series about "gothic romance" (as Rolin Jones said) and not about gothic horror as this story was meant to be.

Accepting to only receive the crumbles because "otherwise we won't have anything" is actually the main thing that will ultimately make us have nothing good. Because if you show the producers that you're not ok with them taking away everything that's inside to leave only the shell, they'll stop and understand that they have to work better to gain your attention again; they need their audience to make their business go on. While if you hate this project but you don't say or do nothing about it to express your doubts, then you'll exactly get what you hate.

Now you'll tell me: how do you know that they're doing a mess? It's not a matter of knowing for sure, it's about being free to express our doubts according to the many official AND VERY QUESTIONABLE TBH infos that have been communicated to us. Just like the ones that are excited about this have the right to party, I have the right to be openly upset because not everybody can like what they've communicated through the interviews. I mean, look at what they're planning to do to Night Island:

How can I not be upset or at least confused about this? Every night is a near-disaster? Night island? A place that is entirely owned by one of the most feared vampires that would burn you to the fucking ground immediately if you start misbehaving in a territory that is so strictly his? What's the point of starting from zero a territory born with the intention of being under his control since day one, then? Oh yeah, let's invest on properties that will only give me problems :D

And since secrecy is one of the vital things for the Ricean vampire society to coexist peacefully with humans, why there is this distinction between these vampires with even less braincells than Homer Simpson and the very few smart vampires that have to look after them like babysitters?? Where are we, in a kindergarten?? Aren’t these idiots interested in saving their own asses by hiding? What do they gain from going apeshit?

And most importantly: Where is Armand in all of this? Is he too busy staring at a wall in his toilet while he pretends to poop?

And wasn’t Akasha awakening from her slumber the plot of Night Island? Why the hell is it irresponsible vampires now?? I think I can tell you why: This is happening because..............they’re not really able to write their interactions complex and intelligent as they are in the og story to make this tv show interesting enough to keep the audience hooked for many seasons. Since they’re monsters, it’s easy money to just play the card of them simply going around killing people with The Squad running after their asses to save the day. I wonder if they’ll call Scooby-Doo and his gang and I hope that Daphne and Velma will be turned into vampires. I’m also ready to ship Scooby with Mojo, tbh.

And this is not the only thing that for now seems like lazy writing, tbh.

Take Lestat, for example. They thought: what is the easiest and most effective way to make him look cool without us putting too much effort? Let’s make him look like a basic dangerous vampire. That’s it. That seems his entire personality right now and I hope I’m wrong because tbh the first impression that book Lestat gives to someone is always something that I imagine very similar to how Jamie Campbell Bower is in Will, so this young man with an attitude and even phisical appearance that screams “Not only I’m mean and I can only mean trouble in your life, but I’m also so beautiful that you can’t deny me”. Like, even his beauty LOOKS MEAN, because it's canon that he appears like the villain just by his looks (which amc Lestat clearly doesn't). But it’s not only a question of being mean. Lestat is a manipulative and mischievous person, he’s malicious and sly. His evilness is more tending to the “queen bee” in a high school behavior, more petty and not refined, than the simple “oooh im a scary vampire”/”Louis I want to know you :)” with such a...much sweeter behaviour, it seems? He looks like...JUST SOME BLONDE GUY TBH. AND HE’S JACKED?? WHERE IS HIS FELINE BEAUTY?? HIS LEAN BODY? And do you call THAT gorgeous blonde hair??

And also, let’s remember that Lestat isn’t exactly.............refined and patient enough to lure a human in his web with such a calm way of carrying himself that oscillates with creepy/violent moments. That is Armand, remember?

Lestat’s technique is always tending towards a sensual seduction, there’s always something that you can feel (as a human) that is driven by malicious sexual lust and that he’s up to no good. He calls himself gentleman death because he knows that for a short period of time he has to fake that with the human he wants to kill. But with the ones he wants to turn and keep to himself for eternity, he doesn’t have the patience to use the mask of the gentleman he’s only able to keep on for 5 minutes because he knows they are bound to have him around every night whether they like it or not. And here he switches to his sly type of approach: since he didn’t want to simply kill Louis, to turn him in order to exploit him for his fortune he used that moment of weakness due to Paul’s death, so not through romantic conversations (or any type of conversation at all). Lestat saw Louis’ money and inherited it by “marrying” Louis through the Blood. With Antoine and Claudia the same, turned in order to gain something from them. Lestat is a brute, always perceived as a brute by Louis at the beginning. Louis is the smart one of the couple, remember? Louis had the chance to study more, to be taught how to behave like a true gentleman, Lestat sadly not due to the difficult situation of his family. And not only that. Lestat among the perks he has (so yeah, not only flaws) has this pretty comical side, he has a strong and very characteristic dark sense of humor that I think should have shone through already...and let me tell you, I think we won’t see it even in the future.

Another example of lazy writing is how they changed Louis’ personality to make him have “more of a spine”. As if the original Louis wasn’t enough. When I see all of these people saying “now I like Louis more, before he was just a whining little bitch that I couldn’t stand” I wonder if they like Amc Louis because he’s an “upgraded/better version” of this character or simply someone else that they put in the place of a character that they actually never liked. Because let’s tell the truth to ourselves: Louis has never been a character easy to love. People tried to sell us this idea because he’s the first vampire protagonist we meet, because he’s exceptionally handsome and because he has been labeled as the most empathetic vampire when actually his difficult position in his very first vampire years pushed him to be almost an antagonist for himself and for Claudia.

I suspect that Louis is one of those people who tend to froze and almost “play dead” when they’re overwhelmed by external threats. He tries to keep calm as much as he can, almost dissociating in his poised gentleman role that serves as comfort zone until reaching the breaking point in which he explodes and kicks everyone’s asses.

But what does he do of detrimental in those passive moments?

He doesn’t do nothing to solve the problem until someone else takes the lead (with all the due exceptions). Claudia, Armand and Lestat had this role in his life of those years, all 3 of them carrying Louis who only accepted their will. A clear example of how unnerving his behavior was is proven by when Claudia said that line about how despite the fact that Louis is the love of her life, he’s so unassertive that she has arrived to hate him. Louis had become a deathweight in Claudia’s and also his life. He wouldn’t have even thought about searching for someone who would have efficiently substituted him when he was thinking about leaving with Armand if it wasn’t for Claudia herself forcing her will on him to create Madeleine for her. Always Claudia the driving force, always others. So much stillness in him that it brought Claudia to scream at him “do you even love me?? Do you even care about me??”.

The og Louis doesn’t run away from Lestat, he was already calmly walking towards death. That was Daniel, remember? Daniel ran away from Armand because he was rightfully scared to be killed by a vampire. But since that ship is no longer existing then we can use their characteristics because who cares, right?

All these changes in his personality have been made because in the era we find ourselves now, if the protagonists are not relatable to us then we loose our interest for the show. If we don’t see our mannerisms replicated on screen (even by monsters), the mass screams “booooriiiing”. The attention has shifted from the wonder of discovering new worlds, new behaviors we would have never expected to “oooh I would have done that too. This is a great series.”

If we can’t make memes about that character, if we can’t find scenes where we can scream “OMG MEEEEE. me when...you when....your mom when...” we discard it. Louis has the role to be us, now. Not to be himself, no. To be US (while Lestat looks like an npc random vampire).

As for Claudia...look that girl is really stunning. Every time I look at her I admire her beauty and she looks really talented. As I said under another post, she has a huge potential as a vampire in the series. If the series had been made faithfully, she would have deserved a very important role because she has a very piercing presence. Only not for Claudia. I’m sorry, she’s too old and being a teenager girl forever is not as frightening as Rolin Jones tried to fool us into believing. She can live her life normally. The whole point of Claudia was that she was destined to die since her birth. She was destined to tragedy. But she as a character makes me think that the only resolution was that of making the vampire chronicles as a GOOD animated series, as macabre as possible.

And can we talk about the fact that they’ve set the whole story closer to our current era because it was clearly cheaper and easier to buy everything necessary for a roaring ‘20s scenario and for our current times?? Like literally zero effort... EVEN USING COVID AS PART OF THE PLOT, WHERE THE FUCK ARE WEEEEEE do they really think we are interested to this universe because we want to see OURSELVES in it and not THEIR story?? What sense does it have for me to be interested in watching something that I already saw, something that I EVEN LIVED and not their mysterious and foreign world??

AND HE EVEN USED AS AN EXCUSE THE FACT THAT HE CHOSE THIS TO MAKE IT MORE RELATABLE TO US (in full 2020 tv series production style, my compliments). NO GIRL YOU DID IT BECAUSE YOUR BUDGET FOR THIS SHOW SEEMS 5 CENTS WITH A BUBBLEGUM ATTACHED TO IT. DO YOU THINK WE’RE FUCKING STUPID OR SOMETHING???

*deep sigh* ANYWAY, I know that now I’ll only be taken as an evil person or something like that, but believe me: I’m the first one who is hoping I’m wrong. What would I gain by being right? I’d only have a lame series to watch if I am. If I win this “argument”, I can only loose.

Below the cut there is what I think about the references they said they’re gonna use for the Night Island series:

I don’t know guys...even the reference they gave us. I watched The White Lotus to be sure of what I wanted to talk about and...what the fuck? A drama-comedy where there’s Jennifer Coolidge with her usual type of character (which I love because she’s an icon, but what does her kind of humor have to do with the themes of the vampire chronicles?); two girls that when they get stoned they do the asmr, in which they make noises close to each other’s faces; a father that shows his dick on camera to talk about his balls on and on. Anyway, it’s not a bad series by itself. I’ve enjoyed it because very important themes have been discussed, but HOW they did it is what I don’t like for the vc series. How can I say it...it’s like seeing very important matters portrayed with a style that “stays in the middle”. It oscillates between the middle and the superficial and I ask myself: “Is this the right approach for the vampire chronicles?”. For the White Lotus series it was, because that’s that tv series’ style and they also wanted to keep it short. But is it ok for the vampire chronicles’ series? I don’t think so, but eh since it’s only a “gothic romance” now...

And also: the fact of going through important issues of our society as the main theme is something that I can see fit for a series about humans as protagonists, but is it as the main theme of a vampire story? Of course things that will be relatable to us will be present in their human past for obvious reasons, it's inevitable. But as the main focus like the producers of the White Lotus did? Idk, I hope they'll handle it well because it's something tricky to do.

And as for the second reference: I thought that The Viper Room was another series or a movie from which taking inspiration but it's actually a real place? And it's the bar where RIVER PHOENIX DIED?? WHAT DOES IT MEAN??

#All the parts that have been put in bold are not meant to make me sound more aggressive but to make such a long text easier to read #also to highlight what I'm focused on more #the vampire chronicles #the vampire chronicles amc #interview with the vampire amc #vc tv #amc vc

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