chlorinewriter
at the end we'll be
a random blog where anything funny, fluffy, fandom or funeral-worthy may be posted. born in '94. call me Day.
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Resources For Writing Sketchy Topics
Medicine
A Study In Physical Injury
Comas
Medical Facts And Tips For Your Writing Needs
Broken Bones
Burns
Unconsciousness & Head Trauma
Blood Loss
Stab Wounds
Pain & Shock
All About Mechanical Injuries (Injuries Caused By Violence)
Writing Specific Characters
Portraying a kleptomaniac.
Playing a character with cancer.
How to portray a power driven character.
Playing the manipulative character.
Portraying a character with borderline personality disorder.
Playing a character with Orthorexia Nervosa.
Writing a character who lost someone important.
Playing the bullies.
Portraying the drug dealer.
Playing a rebellious character.
How to portray a sociopath.
How to write characters with PTSD.
Playing characters with memory loss.
Playing a pyromaniac.
How to write a mute character.
How to write a character with an OCD.
How to play a stoner.
Playing a character with an eating disorder.
Portraying a character who is anti-social.
Portraying a character who is depressed.
How to portray someone with dyslexia.
How to portray a character with bipolar disorder.
Portraying a character with severe depression.
How to play a serial killer.
Writing insane characters.
Playing a character under the influence of marijuana.
Tips on writing a drug addict.
How to write a character with HPD.
Writing a character with Nymphomania.
Writing a character with schizophrenia.
Writing a character with Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Writing a character with depression.
Writing a character who suffers from night terrors.
Writing a character with paranoid personality disorder.
How to play a victim of rape.
How to play a mentally ill/insane character.
Writing a character who self-harms.
Writing a character who is high on amphetamines.
How to play the stalker.
How to portray a character high on cocaine.
Playing a character with ADHD.
How to play a sexual assault victim.
Writing a compulsive gambler.
Playing a character who is faking a disorder.
Playing a prisoner.
Portraying an emotionally detached character.
How to play a character with social anxiety.
Portraying a character who is high.
Portraying characters who have secrets.
Portraying a recovering alcoholic.
Portraying a sex addict.
How to play someone creepy.
Portraying sexually/emotionally abused characters.
Playing a character under the influence of drugs.
Playing a character who struggles with Bulimia.
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Examining Mob Mentality
How Street Gangs Work
Domestic Abuse
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AK-47 prices on the black market
Bribes
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Human Traffickers Prices
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Earnings From Illegal Jobs
Countries In Order Of Largest To Smallest Risk
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arson
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On This Day
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serial killers
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Time of Death
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Trauma
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the idealized version of my tomorrow self will fix this
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“I just thought, ‘I really want to go and lounge around on some sofas and do absolutely nothing and drop some funny lines.’” ROSAMUND PIKE on playing ELSPETH CATTON in SALTBURN (2023)
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your last words before you die are the 3rd line of the last song you listened to. what are we saying ladies?
#Or that I was on the brink#a little depressing#brink of success?#or maybe brink of losing it#francesca by hozier
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These librarians sure as hell have a good sense of humor
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reminder to worldbuilders: don't get caught up in things that aren't important to the story you're writing, like plot and characters! instead, try to focus on what readers actually care about: detailed plate tectonics
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Chapter: 1/?
Pairing: Shanks/Mihawk
Rating: M
Word count: 5k
Summary:
Mihawk is a Redeemer of the Holy Church, terrifying and powerful. He has spent almost the entirety of his life tracking down and eradicating demons and heathens and people living in the murkiness in between. When the Holy First himself commands Mihawk to find and kill Shanks, an unrepentant sinner whose strength rivals the Church, Mihawk accepts the divine orders despite their strange circumstances.
However, Shanks is not so easy to label a heathen or a devil. Meeting him opens far more doors than it closes in Mihawk's mind, especially when the two are forced to work together to confront another formidable threat. Mihawk starts to wonder about the Church, their morals, his life's purpose... about the man with the red hair and the devilish smile who is no devil at all.
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“I am pleased to honour you with the addition of my conviction – His conviction – to aid you in this endeavor, but you do not require my faith. You will do your duty.”
Your duty. The Redeemer knows what the First is telling him to do. Kill Shanks as soon as he is found and not a moment after. No need to bring him to the Holy See to stand trial, or even offer the choice to surrender, as is Church law. Take away the choice. The fact that the heathen will not willingly choose to come if given an option is irrelevant. The choice is at least a moment to let Mihawk’s quarry prepare, and fight as well as he might.
To give Mihawk a sliver of time where redemption is a possibility and not a sword.
But the Holy First trusts him. The way he withdrew the Conqueror’s faith proves that. This is Mihawk’s purpose, writ large across the room, across the awed aides and the still faintly glowing First. Serve the Church. Hunt down demons. It feels like there is still a touch of the golden divinity on him, firmly shaping his uncertainty into a harsher, steadier form. An almost tangible reminder.
From Mihawk’s hands the only kind of redemption possible is a sword.
Beset by the weight of the friction crushing him, Mihawk looks away, curls his fingers, one at a time, like each tiny movement might in aggregate release the oppressive tension.
“I trust you to do the Lord’s will, Redeemer.”
The Lord’s will. The Holy First wants Mihawk to snatch the life away from Shanks. To turn Mihawk from a Redeemer into an assassin. Why is that such a black mark compared to the flush of gold still saturating his mind?
Overt tremors are shaking Mihawk’s body as his soul recovers from its instinctive effort to resist the command before it was lifted. The Holy First politely ignores the shudders. Prelate Markeith is scowling off to the side, but he scowls most of the time and Mihawk tries to ignore him.
“I will, Most Holy. Thank you for your command. I will not fail.” When he kisses the cross around his neck, he actually means it. An unusual earnestness from Mihawk, and even more unusual because he is still conflicted. The wanted poster is so insistent in his head, with that heathen’s stupidly wide grin. It’s like the Holy First’s golden glow splashed a bit too far. Coloured Shanks with it, too. He will receive swift and righteous justice, Redeemer. The swift righteousness of murder, which is no righteousness at all.
#mishanks#one piece#mihawk x shanks#mihawk#shanks#one piece au#my fic#thank God I'm finally posting this!!#Oh it has been a struggle
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in spirit i am a 7th grade boy
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Certain words can change your brain forever and ever so you do have to be very careful about it.
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We were having a little fun at work today with spine poetry
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What she says: im fine
What she means: the average age of conception over the past 250k years is apparently 26.9. Let's round it down to 25. Think of your birth mother. Hold her hand. Imagine her holding hands with her mother. Within 4 people, you're back in time 100 years, and it's an intimate family dinner. Just after WWI. Add another 16 people, a small party of 20, and you're in the 1500s. Double it, twice, and you're at 80 people. Your family would fill a restaurant, and you're at the height of the Roman empire. At 100 people, Confucius is alive but Socrates has not yet been born. 100 people. That's a medium sized wedding. A small lecture theatre or concert. 200 people, probably the biggest party i could ever hope to host, takes you back 5000 years. The guests at your soirée of parents would be contemporaries of the Egyptian and Indus Valley civilisations, although you'd probably be too busy fixing drinks and nibbles to talk to all of them. Just imagine it. 200 of you. That's all it takes to get back 5,000 years. And we could go further. 1000 people, a decent sized concert, a large high school, and we're at the end of the last ice age. Your ancestors are comparing their pink floyd vinyl with music played on instruments carved from wood or bones of long vanished species. Wander through the crowd. See your own features and phrases and gestures refract out like a kaleidoscope. What would they make of you? What do you make of them? Why does it feel so unfair that even that first 100 years --that small family dinner of four--is out of your grasp? Maybe it's because questions of spatial distance have become negligible to us now. why, oh why, does time hold out against us so stubbornly
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Wasteland, Baby! | March 1, 2019
"There is definitely a kind of wry smile to the work, but it takes place with a great shadow hanging over, I suppose, the end of the world kind of hanging over the album a little bit. But that is enjoyed in the best way possible."
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