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itshype · 1 year

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Kingmaker, Kingbreaker, Crowntaker, Realmshaker (DC x DP)

Idk how many people who follow me know but I love my notfics so here...

A Kingmaker Danny Phantom where he's not (technically) king after defeating Pariah Dark because he's still uhm… a child (who is untrained in diplomacy and barely knows anything about Ghost Culture), but whoever replaces Pariah is fully aware than Danny could at any time beat them up and install someone else in their place. Maybe it's not even explicit and Danny doesn't know.

Pandora tells him: "Oh, we got a new king of the ghost zone, nah, you don't know her but she's tight with me and Frostbite. But we're not really having her use the crown and ring, they're going to be for emergencies only." and Danny is like "oh cool, my buddies approve of the new king, I don't need to be further involved!" but because of this assumption, he doesn't go to the coronation, and it turns into a huge source of tension because like:

"Why should we be concerned about any decrees given by the new king, when at literally any moment, Danny Phantom, the BAMF, the myth, the legend, is probably going to show up and give a legendary smackdown and make this ghost Pariah's new roomie?" Then some of Danny's long-time foes start to play very nice with him, in the hopes that when (not if) Danny decides to replace the new king that they might be in the running for a minor barony or something under the new regime. Danny does not think this about-face through, just thinking 'oh this is neat! how convenient that everyone wants to be my friend now!' Ghosts often refer to him as 'ghost child' and I love the idea of him being the little brother of the entirety of the amity park-adjacent section of the infinity realms. Johnny could teach him how to ride a motorbike, skulker could teach him some ghost engineering (assuming he is involved in the construction of his own suit) etc. These rumours of the upcoming 'next king' who doesn't even exist, of course gets back to the new king and she's like

"idk what I have done to anger Kingbreaker Danny, he hasn't even given me a chance!" SO!!! She decides to reach out to some humans she knows for advice on how to win over a little boy (her creepy insinuation very much unintended on her part). Here are some options of varying hilarity for how she could go because I couldn't pick just one!

Vlad!: Your standard, non-crossover option. I personally love redeemed Vlad content (maybe Maddy crosses a line and his Obsession with her snaps), and this could be amusing if the king doesn't give many details so he doesn't realise it's Danny, and then when he does realise, freaks out about having adoptive parent competition.

Constantine/Zatanna: Both magic-y people, they could have summoned her at one point before or after her coronation.

Wonder Woman!!: If the king knows Pandora maybe Pandora referred her as an old buddy of some of the gods or other amazons. The king could just say they need to talk to a human expert not connected to Danny without giving more detail and pandora could say "oh yeah, the gods who created me have some human-ish relatives and one of them even lives with other humans. she's basically my cousin!" meanwhile Diana has never met pandora and doesn't know anything about her outside of the OG myth.

Superman: Danny shares a lot of superman's powers, plus they both have that OP vibe, PLUS share the "one foot in each world" type of thing that could lead the king to think he was the best option. Unsure why they would've met so reaching out as a stranger would add a different vibe.

The Flash: his speed powers canonically come from another dimension that he calls the speed force. do you know what is also another dimension? the ghost zone. The flash is that annoying neighbour who occasionally dangles an extension cord over your fence to use your electricity, and will not stop using your Wi-Fi because it runs faster than his. The king figures he owes her and if he won't then she'll change the speed force Wi-Fi password...metaphorically.

Actually, you know what, ghost king threatening all speedsters on Earth if they don't help her woo a teenager is the funniest option. So, we’re continuing with that. Obviously, the flash doesn't want to lose his abilities! But also, this smacks of a creepy grooming situation. The flash then has to awkwardly explain to the entire justice league that his speed is being held hostage by a dead cougar who wants to seduce a human teenage boy for reasons that may be illicit but are jenky at the very least. There are hundreds of Danny joins the batfam fics so I don't think this story needs to go in that direction, but batman would probably have to be involved at this point just to figure out who the "teenage victim" is. That is how Danny Fenton meets most of the main justice league with them not even having an inkling he's dead/secretly a ghost hero. Most batpham fics I've read where the batclan figures out Phantom's identity, they see him fight ghosts and look up ghost experts, find his parents, see a family photo and then make the visual connection. Like superman, Danny's identity is mostly in the clear because no one would think that a ghost would even have a secret identity - he's dead (and thanks to the time travel he's done appears to have been dead for centuries), who would he need to be protecting?? But this time, the ghosts are all playing buddy-buddy with Danny so phantom hasn't necessarily had any super public fights recently that would make investigating protections against ghost attacks a priority for the bats that would lead them to holding up a picture of Danny next to a picture of phantom. Mostly, Danny goes ghost to play with cujo (I love cujo), or visit the ghost zone. Casper high students are BAFFLED at Fenton's eclectic friend group btw, though considering his parents the ghost dog totally tracks for them. *GASP* service dog Cujo....but that's another post for another time. Jasmine Fenton is not impressed. This could also be Sam or Tucker, or any of Danny's newest ghost buddies if you like but as an oldest sibling I have OPINIONS. She thinks Danny is safest taking this perv ghost on himself and not risking a possessed/overshadowed justice league or even just the justice league themselves. That's right kids, the justice league is often in canon closely associated with the USA government - the same government who put the anti-ecto acts into place. NOW! a lot of crossover fics have the justice league completely clueless about the anti-ecto laws and GIW. I don't always find that realistic. The entirety of the justice league dark is pretty closely involved with the dead and ghosts (deadman IS a ghost), clark is an investigative journalist married/dating/besties with another, award winning investigative journalist, Bruce is the most paranoid and well informed man alive with two sons plus one batgirl who have died and been brought back through mystical or scientific means, Diana is (in some canons) meant to be an ambassador representing her people to the entirety of mankind. So, none of them even being vaguely aware of this new law does NOT track for me. I think a few possibilities are...possible: - They know about the laws, read a few scientific papers on ecto-entities written by "experts" which would include the Fenton parents and pre-redemption Vlad, and think 'yeah that checks out no reason to fight this' - They know but as they rarely deal with the national justice system as a team, and therefore don't think about it as a positive or negative thing. It doesn't apply to their lives. Think about how much you know about your local laws, let alone obscure federal ones (in some parts of Australia it’s illegal to be holding more than 50kg of potatoes, just as a random example!). - Some of them agree with the "experts" or don't even know about the laws, whereas Batman, John Constantine and Martian Manhunter know they're a crock of shit but themselves lack the political capital to fight them without leverage and can't justify it without an emergency.

Danny's ghost buddies are told that apparently some ghost is threatening the justice league to get to Danny and go back into the zone to investigate. I genuinely think once their obsessions are no longer at cross purposes, Danny could totally help ghosts to fulfil their obsessions in ways they hadn't considered, and they could be buddies for real now. Think Tucker setting Ember up with a YouTube or streaming account, playing paintball with Skulker, introducing Walker to one of those uber-elaborate RPG or tabletop games with massive amounts of rules and letting him be like Matt Mercer in the Rules Lawyer round of Um, Actually. There’s an entire separate fic here I swear.

Either way! Jazz is trying to warn her brother away from the justice league while he and probably Tucker are all 🤩. Danny knows it's dangerous for him personally but his Obsession with protecting the town knows that Amity has never been safer with all these heroes milling about so it's hard for him not to be over eager and relaxed. The flash is explaining how his powers could be removed if he doesn’t comply and Danny says, “oh then just tell her?” and the league is like “oh no, not another self-sacrificing teen.” Unfortunately for everyone involved, Superman has super hearing. He heard Jazz telling Danny to kick the Justice League to the curb. Now the Justice League thinks there's something foul in the Fenton household, but they think it's Jazz instead of Danny.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #justice league #not fic #mine #the flash #barry allen #batman #pandora #tucker foley #jazz fenton #LISTEN TO ME!!!!#SERVICE ANIMAL CUJO

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aprill-99 · 2 years

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I saw this post the other day and haven’t been able to find it again, but it was basically saying that Lancelot and Merlin commit actually the stupidest identity fraud ever in 1x05 because given they had to make Lancelot a member of the nobility and went for making him part of a family with 4 sons already there was actually a pretty good chance one of them might have been at court or even a knight themselves who could have very easily been like “wtf you mean? I’ve never seen this guy before in my life?”

And while I think that’s a good point hear me out, the opposite happens.

The, IDK, 3rd son of Lord Whomever of the Place, finds out one day that his little brother is competing to be a knight. He thinks it’s weird they haven’t come to see him for advice since he’s already a knight, but little brothers can be touchy about making their own way so whatever. Then he actually sees Lancelot and does immediately realize “yeah okay. Not my brother.” And he’s totally prepped to tell someone about it, but then this guy claiming to be his little brother fights Arthur and absolutely kicks his ass.

That’s freaking impressive. No one ever does that (as we see in the episode) and it’s hilarious. 3rd son starts thinking maybe he just doesn’t have to tell anyone just yet….

Lancelot has his knighting ceremony and throughout the evening people keep congratulating Terry (that’s what I’m calling 3rd son now) and saying he must be super proud of his little brother and Terry just nods and smiles and generally emulated the Penguins of Madagascar and wondering how to get close enough to his “brother” to hash this out and maybe make a plan, but the man is surrounded by well wishers all evening and the Prince seems to have decided this guy is his best friend and is Lady Morganatic flirting??? So you leave it and figure you can wait until tomorrow…

Then the next morning when every Knight is still incredibly hungover The King makes you all show up to a special hearing about identity fraud and accuses this dude of being an imposter and Terry has literally never met him but being yelled at incredibly sucks and this guy has floppy hero hair and huge brown puppy eyes and he did pass all the knighting tests and Terry already has a ton of brothers and also he might still be a little drunk and before he knows it he’s out in the middle of the room going “Excuse me your majesty, but I think I would know best how many brothers I have. I must say I do not appreciate you yelling at my precious baby brother Linus-“

“Lancelot” The Prince’s man servant says on a cough.

“Lancelot,” Terry corrects. “Right. That’s what I meant.”

And from that moment on just absolutely 110% commits to the lie that Lancelot is absolutely and completely his youngest brother and no he will not be taking questions at this time. He gets bros 1, 2, and 4 in on it. 1 just thinks it’s too late to course correct and thinks the family can maximize on Lancelot’s popularity and chooses that over endangering their reputation by now revealing Terry lied. 2 just thinks the whole thing is hilarious and 4 likes not being the youngest. Lord Whomever is about the Kings Age and is at that stage certain older people get to where they just don’t give a shit and are down for some chaos so he just absolutely perpetuates this whole thing.

The King asks him about it and the Lord is like “What do you mean suspicious. I absolutely and completely have a fifth son in his twenties. Lucious really does make us all so proud what with the Griffin slaying and all.”

“He claims his name is Lancelot.”

“My memory is going in my old age and I have 5 sons. You can’t expect me to keep all the names straight King Igor.”

“My name is Uthor.”

“Is it?”

And Lancelot just gets fully absorbed in to the family utterly without realizing it. He has no idea what it means to be in a family structure like this and he can’t stand how much danger he’s putting this family in and is just agonizing especially because he finds it so nice and then Terry is like “Pack a bag and put in for some leave. Our little sisters want to meet you and one has a birthday coming up.” And it’s soft and sweet and Lancelot let’s them put a flower crown on him which makes him the immediate favorite of the little girls and he gets to go to a real home sometimes and still meets Percival sometime in there and then all the other knights and Merlin and Gwen and Morgana have a family structure to rely on more extensive than just Gaius, less evil than Morgose, and more supportive than Uthor

And narratively Lancelot gets to be in all the episodes and doesn’t get killed off and he’s around for whatever romance dynamic you wanna put him in because I swear Santiago Cabrera could manage romantic chemistry with a brick wall if he had it for a scene partner so anything goes and it’s all because Terry the 3rd Son of Lord Eldridge of the House of Northumberland (all that might be wrong) decided to pull a Mandalorian before it was cool and do some on the spot freeform adoption

#bbc merlin #merlin #king arthur #lancelot #guinevere #santiago cabrera #headcannons #merlin headcanons #cannon divergence #so clearly I had some thoughts #I don’t normally write drabbles or shorts but this one might be prime #would you guys read it?#thoughts?#possible fanfic idea

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bigskydreaming · 6 months

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I think the beauty of secret identities as a trope and potential source of drama (when done well) is that there is no real ‘right way’ of maintaining one or when and how you let other people in on it. It’s inherently messy.

Like there are valid, completely legitimate reasons for superheroes to keep their identities secret, including from people they bring into their personal circle in their civilian lives (at least initially like when they first meet them), because there is a danger to the hero and their pre-existing loved ones and allies with every single new person brought into the loop. It’s not something that can or should be done lightly. Especially when your secret identity is linked to multiple others. Oftentimes it’s a matter of it just not entirely up to a single individual hero because it’s not JUST their secret. Especially in hero families.

But on the other hand, no person who gets close to someone with a secret identity without knowing there’s a double life in play actually OWES understanding about the times and ways they were factually lied to, even if ideally they do understand and sympathize with WHY they were lied to. Like the very nature of superheroes keeping a secret identity to keep loved ones safe from their enemies….it’s extremely reasonable for a new friend or love interest after the fact to be like yeah I would have liked to know that dating/befriending you might make me and my OWN loved ones a target by extension, because that might have changed my decision to do so. This is extremely relevant information to have early on in a relationship or friendship. And on a similar note, they could very well have feelings or opinions about vigilantism in general that might not be the sort of thing that come up in casual conversation but again are extremely relevant to whether or not they want to develop a close relationship with a vigilante. Etc etc.

Idk. Not going anywhere in specific with this but I do think it lends a lot of legitimacy (for lack of a better word) to so many superheroes often just dating within the hero community because these are not small considerations to be wary of when dating someone who doesn’t already know your secret identity going in.

Like I would like to see more of veteran heroes like Dick and Roy and other Titans responding to younger heroes coming to them for advice on how to navigate the secret identity while dating issue with just….a lot of shrugs, lol. Dick’s like oh I have no idea what to tell you here. There’s a reason I barely ever date outside the hero community other than when like, I have literal amnesia and brain damage, because none of us know how to do that ‘right’. You pretty much just have to wing it and hope for the best while understanding this absolutely could all blow up in your face at any given moment and you’re not necessarily (or even likely to be) the good guy when it does.

#has there ever been a villain whose literal villain origin story was they were dating or friends with a hero without #knowing they were secretly a hero until they got pulled into a conflict between said hero and their villains as collateral damage #and this radicalized them to be like fuck all superheroes and this one in particular?#lovers to arch nemesis trope basically

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detectivehole · 1 month

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hey man the anti-AI stuff you reblog is rly. Reactionary idk how else to put it. It’s a mixed bag. AI has been used in art for a LONG time, it’s not as new as ppl think it is. It’s used a lot in animation especially. Obviously there is a difference between AI as a tool and AI as a replacement for artists/writers, but nearly every single instance of them attempting this has been catastrophically bad. (Doesnt stop the dumbass studios like Disney and Pixar to keep trying it tho, bc they value short term profit over any actual value) For AI being used in a professional setting, it’s imperative the distinction be made between tool or replacement. Machines, despite how efficient they have become, are managed by humans. Letting them run without a person actually operating it that knows what they’re trying to do is always a bad idea.

However, using AI generated pics for like. Personal use? Let’s say you aren’t a good artist, or as many have pointed out, can’t be an artist due to disability (none of that inspiration porn abt painting w your mouth some ppl can’t do that either.) and you’d like a picture of your Tabletop game character or OC or something, and you do not have the money to spare for a commission from the artist you like. Doesn’t mean you can’t pay for one later on, as a human will take the finer details you want and bring them to life, but if you’re looking for like. A placeholder? And you aren’t planning on selling it or some shit, then ppl shouldnt get on your case. Except every anti-AI bro now hears “AI” and flies into a frothing rage, saying it’s “never ok”. Nobody should care of somebody made a meme using AI or tried to make something just for themselves or friends. It becomes an issue when it’s being marketed as a “replacement” for artists.

Tldr: AI is a useful tool, the tech bros that got a hold of ot do not represent the entire scope of it. If it is used as a tool or personal use, it’s not an issue. It only becomes one when it is used as an explicit replacement for writers/artists.

i agree with the first paragraph, though im a little insulted you'd assume my knowledge and opinions on AI image generation were so shallow and uninformed as to have to explain it to me- but you lost me after that

first off, i wanna make it clear that basically no one thinks you're some sort of amoral monster for having used or even enjoyed what AI image generation and art can give you. most people genuinely don't understand the intricacies of its ethics and effects, and while ignorance like that is annoying, it's something most people who do get it understand and forgive with a sorta... exasperation. most of the time. now, maybe you're not coming from a place of good faith, i can't say, but i choose to think you are

i don't have the chops, time, or particular desire to explain what exactly is wrong with AI art generation (there's a lot in way too many directions), so i'll just give you a link to get you started (it's not a long read, just some basic critiques to jump from) and some admittedly harsh sounding (but well meant) advice that pertains to your particular use of AI:

you dont always get what you want. you're not entitled, for any reason, to the fruits of stolen (and popular AI datasets have been proven to unequivocally be stolen) artistic labor, especially if that theft is impacting the livelihoods of independent artists. (and don't give me "what about other generic media piracy" because that's its own can of worms and you know it. i won't hear it). it's not the end of the world that you have, but it's just not ethical to generate that art knowing it's based off stolen work- if it was all consensually given data it'd be different- and sometimes behaving ethically means you dont get what you want. tough shit. plenty of people can't or won't draw for all sorts of reasons, and none of those reasons suddenly make it ok for them to take other people's art

to be clear, if all the datasets used to train AI were ethically sourced- bought, donated, or taken from free use material- this wouldn't be an issue. i mean there would still totally be issues with casual generative AI, but this particular issue would be moot. the issue with AI art isn't the AI, it's what the AI's being fed. every time you engage with it gets smarter, and better, and more efficient at chewing up its stolen foods and spitting out a knockoff. the issue is what it's being fed and you are putting tokens in the little treat machine at its petting zoo enclosure

you want a placeholder? you got picrew. doll dress up games. hell, pester your friends for doodles. save up. or even just learn to handle not getting it at all- just pick something else

#mine #ask

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

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Hi Charmᵕ̈,

I wanted to dm and ask but then thought more people could benefit from your answer so my question is...

How do you feel in your day to day life knowing something your peers don't? Or rather, having done something most people will die without ever experiencing (getting into the void and waking up somewhere completely different)

I'm just really curious what it must feel like! Seeing people struggle in day to day activities when you know, experientially, you could change your life just like that 🫰🏻; I'm imagining there must be a general ease with which you live now that wasn't there prior void?

PS. Your blog is lovely, thank you so much for all the involvement and the fact that you're still here to give advice 🕊🏹🤍💌

Hi bb ty for this ask, bc this is something I struggled with for a while. I used to feel so bad and it was so unhealthy for me. I felt like I was some beholding omnipotent being and I could help so many people and that was my job. But the truth is even if you spoke the law from the rooftops in every city and home , no one would care unless they had the will to.

1. I talk about the law to everyone who meets me tbh. It’s not a secret trust me. Maybe not the same way I talk to people here but everyone knows me as the manifesting astrology delulu girl. When people ask me how I have straight As without studying, I straight up tell them I manifest it. I tell people I use to practice driving while lucid dreaming and that’s how I overcame my fear. When people ask how I don’t have a job in college, but spend a lot, I tell them money always come into my account and it never hits 0, so I don’t worry about that. I straight up tell tell them how I write all my desires down and they come to life just because I say so. Most people either don’t care, don’t believe me, or assume i was just born privileged even if I explain I wasn’t.

2.you’re not special. And not the way you think. You are a special bright star, as a person and I love you of course, but you’re not special about knowing the law. Most people know about the law whether they know what it’s called or not. Some people even know about the law and still don’t care or apply it differently to their lives than now we do, and that’s okay.

3. Some people know the law and don’t care, simply because they don’t. Maybe they already like their life, maybe they don’t believe it, maybe they prefer to follow their religious practices. Idk but a lot of time I tell friends about the manifesting practice I’ve been using and it’s not like they make fun of me.. but they’re just not into that stuff like I am, and they don’t care. I will go on rambles about how we can have whatever we want in this life, and they’re just like “okay nice .. anyways I hate matthew so much” That’s okay! it doesn’t make you special or enlightened nor does it make them dull and ignorant. Just makes them, them, and you, you. We are god. If they wanted to utilize the law like you have, they would have already. Maybe not today or tomorrow, maybe in another life time, or maybe never idk but that’s not my reality or problem.

4.we as a community gotta drop the hero complex. Trust me I had to work through this in therapy. (Void/manifesting or not, therapy has benefited me in so many ways guys! Get therapy no matter how good your life is. If I were president therapy would be mandated for everyone that’s how hard I ride for it!) but anyways, you’re not going to save the world. Accept that now, it’ll save you the trouble, guilt, and doubt later. Just trust me I could elaborate all day but we all know it’s not realistic or mentally healthy for us. Btw anon this is a shot at myself. not you or anyone else who feels the same 💗

But thank you for your kind words. The point Is don’t compare yourself to other people or try to see your past self in them! It’s not healthy and most people given the chance won’t care or want your delulu advice. In fact most people will make fun of you, it’s just the life we’re in. But I believe the law finds.. well Moreso your will find whatever you need, given who you are. Which is even more of a reason to not give up. Not only did you find the law, you’re still here even with your trials and tribulations, even with the doubt and uncertainty you know it’s real, so that’s really the only thing you should take from the given situation you asked!

But yes life is on easy mode for the most part. But generally it feels the same because I keep myself fulfilled even here! Especially as a shifter it’s easy to feel more grounded here remembering it’s also a reality with amazing people, foods and things to explore. And I will make the most out of it otherwise what’s the point.

*also I use delulu as a positive adjective towards myself everyday. I have reclaimed it in a cute slay way. Being delulu has gotten me my dream life, so yea I’m gonna use that word happily contrary to societies perception of that world <3! Just clarifying bc I know how people get with that word

#law of assumption #manifesation #void state #manifesting #reality shifting #law of attraction

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reasonsforhope · 9 months

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Hi there! As someone who uses Twitter a lot, I get exposed to a lot of people making jokes about humanity's extinction. I understand that kind of stuff is just them trying to find levity during such dark times, but it always sends me into an anxiety spiral. I've gotten into full blown panic attacks over seeing that kind of stuff. Do you have any advice on how I should manage this?

My biggest advice may not be super helpful because my biggest advice is to get off Twitter lol

I'm barely on any social media - besides Tumblr, I literally only have a Facebook and LinkedIn I use maaaaybe five minutes a day for work. Quitting other social media has been FANTASTIC for my mental health, 10/10 would recommend

I'm given to understand most people have a harder time quitting social media than I do, though, so idk how helpful this advice is. You could also try to unfollow and/or block people who you see make these jokes - there's a good chance the bulk of it comes from a few repeat offenders, I think

Otherwise...yeah, the way to manage anxiety like this really is, honestly, to avoid the stuff that gives you panic attacks.

At least for a while or until the neural pathways in your brain have calmed down about this particular issue somewhat. That should happen naturally if you can go without fuel getting poured on these neural fires, so to speak, for a while

Writing out specific, evidence-based affirmations about "No we are not all doomed" and "There are so many things we can fix" on post-its and sticking them around your desk, etc. could also probably help

Best of luck

#Anonymous #ask #me #advice #mental health #anxiety #climate anxiety #panic attack #not news #hope #social media #twitter

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theknightmarket · 1 year

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This is like the most random concept to probably ever come to me so out of the blue, you don't have to do it if you don't want to, but also I feel like if anyone could make something interesting out of this it'd be you. (love your fics btw<3)

So like, Illinois, with his whole knock-off Indiana Jones bullshit, with an s/o who's similarly akin to James Bond...….yeah idk either, man- You can come up with whatever action movie plot, or maybe just some domestic fluff with comically abrupt fight scenes sprinkled in cus that's just how chaotic I imagine their life would be. It's entirely up to you. I am very tired rn.

“Berlin, 1996.”

In which Illinois and his partner – in more than one sense – relive their meeting.

TW: cursing, blood, drug use, general mature themes

Pages: 12 – Words: 5,000

[Requests: OPEN]

The distant sizzle of waffle batter on a pan was the first thing you recognised when you woke in your bed. The smell of coffee wafting from the same place was the second, and the third, while a strange sensation to anyone else, was comforting to you. Your dog lapping at your hand that dangled over the side of the bed had you shaking yourself from the fuzzy grip of sleep. It was going to be a long and laborious process considering the amount of work you’d had for the last week, but this was finally a day that you could spend doing whatever you wished – which, right now, looked a lot like following the sweet scent of breakfast into the kitchen.

Moriarty led the way, the beautiful puppy, although actually a six-year-old Belgian Malinois, whom you had adopted a few years back. He had never liked many of your friends, and you trusted his nose enough to follow his advice. Sure, it might have seemed weird to take social cues from a canine, but he hadn’t steered you wrong yet. Whether it was a Russian spy you’d accidentally offered coffee to, or the smuggler who moved in down the road, Moriarty told you when people were off, and that just happened to be most of those you came in contact with. You’d long since given up making connections when the tenth potential acquaintance had turned out to be the head of some mafia you’d never even heard of.

And then imagine your surprise when you finally brought home someone he liked.

And your further surprise when he stayed the night, and then the morning, and then a week, and then a month, a year, and so on, until you should have been asking him for rent. All the while, Moriarty hadn’t made a peep, leaving you to your devices with this new and, for lack of a better term, strange fellow.

“Morning, gorgeous!”

Speak of the devil and he may appear.

That ‘devil’, affectionate, of course, was none other than the infamous Illinois Jones. A man chased by many, found by few, and held onto by only the luckiest of the lot. You were one of these people, aware that you had him in the palm of your hand, and you thanked him routinely in the morning with a kiss on the cheek for staying.

The clock on the oven flashed a sharp 08:41, an unusual time for Illi to be awake at, but you weren’t complaining. Your job was stressful; you were sure that any doctor would tell you to quit immediately with how often your blood pressure spiked, so you treasured these couple of moments when you were given a break. Your partner had an on-and-off relationship with missions, the things he preferred to call adventures, but he had a likewise relationship with the agency itself. He had a habit of running off to foreign lands without permission, looking for trouble and finding it, too. You wouldn’t mind it, had it not been for your unfortunate love of the man that drew you after him, like a dog on a leash. In the meantime, a good rest was well deserved, now that you were back in the comfort of your own home after an unexpected visit to Guyana.

Plus, he looked damn good in boxers and an apron.

You lazily wrapped your arms around his waist, unintentionally distracting him from the food he was preparing, and muttered into his neck, “G’morning.”

“If you want breakfast, you’re gonna have to let me cook, babe,” he laughed, though that didn’t stop him from leaning back into you.

Your only response was a muffled groan. It wasn’t your fault that you were so touchy-feely today. Work took up most of the daylight, and upkeep stole the rest away. The only time you really got together was in the late hours of the night when twilight would draw a sheet of privacy over the two of you and leave you alone. The stars would dance together, fireflies entertained themselves and you could just be together. Forgive yourself if you wanted to savor the minutes.

Alas, you couldn’t stay at Illinois’ side forever. You’d have to come out of hiding eventually, and now was as good a time as any, so you drowsily shuffled towards the front door. The rusted latches groaned with a mere press of your hand, swinging open with an inching pace. Immediately, a gust of dry air trampled past your face, and the faint smell of dust had you sighing more than breathing. It was a classic Louisiana morning, something you haven’t experienced in a long time – not for a lack of breaks. No, although your recent schedule has been clogged, this quant place was a safe house paid for by the agency, meaning it wasn’t only yours to begin with. It was difficult to get used to using the same amenities that a stranger had just a few days ago, in a room that had a tagline of ‘safe’, but you got over it. It just meant that sanitizing every surface was the chore of the first day.

Illinois didn’t have those reservations; the second that he stepped out of the truck, he declared it home, and went on the search for a good cave. He only agreed to come over camping in the wilderness because of the free food. Or, at least, that’s what he said. There was a small part of you that was sure it was because he didn’t want to be alone, you having no chance to agree on tents – and there was a big part of him that knew you were right.

You laughed to yourself, pulling a porch chair into the orange sunlight. Being a safe house, it was surrounded by the thickest stretch of trees in the state and, even further, lakes and rivers that made it looked untouched by human hands. The second day had been spent exploring nature together. Illinois tugged you by your hand through bushes, over boulders, underneath a couple fallen trees, all the way to the perimeter of the land. From atop a small cliff, you could see the start of urbanization, but it was sheltered by a haze of smog and lights. The city stayed alight until well into midnight and beyond, like a dying campfire, only to be fed at the crack of dawn.

A similar flicker of a flame shot into the air in front of you.

The metal of your lighter was calming, the grooves of the ingrained letters basing you in the present. ‘Berlin, 1996’ was written in small italic near the lever, making it unlikely for you to ever resist the temptation of running your fingers over the markings. It made you smile and, from time to time, had the added benefit of you putting the lighter back in your pocket. This was not one of those times, but a grin did spread over your lips, nonetheless.

The flicker met the end of a cigarette, which you promptly pulled towards your mouth when it took the flame. Illinois didn’t like the fact that you smoked, he always said how he wanted to be fit in his 90s, but you weren’t cheering for him when he jumped 20 feet down for the fun of it either. The compromise you came to was that both of you would continue to indulge the devils on your shoulders and could laugh at the other’s funeral if they died first.

In all honesty, it was not a situation that you liked to be in. The constant, looming cloud of loss scared you more than any danger the agency put you in ever could. Nights spent waiting for Illinois to come home, the fear that time would go by, and the sun would rise and set again, and the door wouldn’t open… it was damn-near paralyzing. The only thing that kept you going, ironically enough, was that same man. At least, if you went on the same jobs that he did, you could keep an eye on him. You would know what kind of danger he was in, and you had the chance to stop it. The question was: would you be fast enough?

You took another drag of your cigarette.

“You shouldn’t smoke, y’know.” The porch crackled as Illinois stepped onto the wooden planks. “It’s not good for you.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

A light-hearted chuckle brushed against your ear, accompanied by the click of his boots and humming of cicadas. The deep sound stopped when he swung another chair next to yours. As he came into view, you saw he had replaced his apron with a simple, loose shirt that fell from him like a woman who had fainted in distress. To catch Illinois in a shirt that actually fit him would be to kill the king – impossible and, according to him, a crime punishable by death.

“You know,” he spoke up, “you don’t look like the rumors.”

Your head unconsciously twisted to the side, so that you could see Illinois only slightly better. His own gaze was fixated in the distant spread of trees. Questions as to what he was starting at batted against you, but you settled on making a curious noise, instead.

“When we first met, I thought you’d lied to me. I’d heard all these stories about a suave, collected, expert of a heartbreaker, and then…”

“They were proved incorrect?”

He took in a steady breath. “No. They were proved, uh, very correct. Actually, after hearing about you, I kinda,” he coughed, as though that would transfer his thoughts directly to you and take away the need to say the words, “made some assumptions that were not as correct.”

Illinois prided himself on being right most of the time – and expressed himself as being right all of the time. However, this was one of the only things that he would admit he was wrong about, this being you. The image he had conjured of you was snide and snobby, only in it for themself and with the biggest case of holier-than-thou syndrome he’d ever thought of. Those stories of you driving fancy cars had pushed him into a corner, trapped by a cage of disgust and partial envy. Then, the rumors of how many people you had seduced worked their magic, followed by a notorious habit of smoking and drinking, which designated you, though he perished the thought now, a scumbag.

But when he’d actually met you…

“And I’m, uh, glad they weren’t.”

He swung an arm around your chair, drew rough fingers across your collarbone and directed your jaw into facing him. The light breeze shifted your hair like a lover’s touch, and the yellow sun decorated you like a bespoke artwork. Something he’d steal from a museum if he had to, but, no, he had you sitting right in front of him, with the quirk of an eyebrow and a small smile on your lips. He was lucky, he knew that, and he thanked his lucky stars every time he woke up next to you in sparkling mornings, every time your hands brushed when he pulled you up from a ledge, every time your eyes met from across a ballroom.

The first time that happened was still something he treasured more than any bespoke jewel or painting.

“Let’s get this business started.”

The night was young, the guests were pleasantly tipsy, and you were perched at one of the centre tables, next to three attractive models and the focus of your attention.

At this moment, you and your company were in the Berlin Operetta House, a classic establishment with smoke and liquor running through its veins. You had joined in – for lack of anything better to do while biding your time – and had been seated with these four the last two hours. The women you had no information on, except for what you had observed in the time given, most of which boiled down to being pretty faces for the big guy sitting across from you.

Earnest Whimson, dramatic irony demanding repentance of his parents as he was anything but earnest. He’d made his living on buying and selling anything he could get him tobacco-stained hands on, be it stolen goods, illegal drugs, or people themselves. It was a desolate trade, rotten but protected by the wallets of the people at the top. In those cases, there was only one person the authorities would routinely turn to.

You.

The authorities, the uncorrupted minorities, would plead with your agency for help, and you were the first person on the list. Call it luck or honed skill, you didn’t care. What you did care about was getting the job done in a quick and efficient manner. These places weren’t good to stay in for more than a day, lest you want to gain a certain reputation in all of the sectors. Thus, speed was top billing this night. That, and types like Whimson made it hard to keep your cover with the way he was talking.

Luckily for you, nine o’clock was rearing its head, the lights were dimming and only a few people were left still chatting over their expensive dining. All eyes were directed towards the stage with fervor, those who didn’t know what was happening watching in piqued interest and those who did waiting with bated breath for the real show to begin.

You did know what was happening, you were indeed waiting, but your breaths were slow and steady, like a smooth rock in a brook. The plan was simple; starting at nine, you’d watch Whimson, make friendly banter with him while he bid on whatever items caught his eye. When he inevitably would call out a ludicrous amount of money for a bejeweled crown or statue and the night comes to a close, you’d excuse yourself and make your way to where that thing was located, wait for Whimson, and kindly dispatch the man before anyone could catch wind of what happened. The money he had taken out the few hours before would go to any witnesses, and you’d get back home in time for a smoke and martini.

Simple.

Except your life had to be hard, didn’t it? You couldn’t just have a plan and stick to it, without something going wrong. Why? You didn’t know. If it had to do with karma or just bad luck, you didn’t know. A pity, really, when it would have made it so much easier to fix it if you did. It almost made you laugh, the thought of what a normal, easy mission was like.

And the things that went wrong never stayed the same. In one instance, you’d find your getaway driver with a bullet through his skull – in another, your target was informed of your mission and managed to get away – sometimes, it was just raining.

Right now, the thing that went wrong was something that had never happened before.

That thing being the infamous Illinois Jones.

Not even half an hour into the auction, and yet this man, adorned in an open, off-white shirt and multiple belts, was leaping onto the wooden slats. Your jaw would have been on the ground had it not been for the table, if not for his bravado, then for his stupidity. The artifact Whimson had bid on – go figure, a bejeweled crown – slotted nicely into his hand as he snatched it from its marble pedestal, shocking the woman presenting it into stumbling back. A wink was sent her way, she ran off, and Illinois turned to the audience.

You listened as he spoke. You sat quietly, pretending that you were shocked, when, in reality, you were seething. The boiling of your blood was louder than the whispering of the bidders, and you found yourself restraining the urge to run up there and slap him for ruining your mission. Questions preoccupied your mind while he lectured the guests about the importance of culture and integrity. Why him - why now?! He wasn’t even a part of the agency, he shouldn’t have known about this bid, and yet there he was, like a smug reaper coming to steal your soul into hell. Did he even know you were there? Did it matter to him?

You only noticed Illinois had stopped talking when he swiveled on the heel of his boot, presumably struck a pose, and then stalked off the stage. Everyone was in such a shock that they didn’t stop him, at least, not at first. After a few seconds had passed for people to gain their composures, that was the cue for havoc to befall the room. Illinois had single-handedly converted an organization of logical, fat cats into a daycare for screaming toddlers; suited men pushed themselves away from tables and darted down the hallways, bodyguards unequipped their guns and set about searching for the adventurer, while some of the wives, understandably, stayed to sip on white wine. You would very much join them if it weren’t for Whimson leaning over to his personal bouncer to whisper in his ear.

“Get the street rat.”

You sighed and took a final swig of your drink. Illinois was a menace, sure, but you weren’t willing to let him die for his ignorance. The agency may have applauded you as you returned, but you had maintained something of a moral compass during your work, so you liked to think you wouldn’t let him die like this. As you said, the man was infamous, and infamous people would not find their ends at the hands of a capitalist bastard’s lapdogs.

The clink of your glass against the wooden table did not draw Whimson’s attention, but, if it had, he might have been able to avoid the bullet that wedged itself into his skull. You had aimed for his temple, and you were a brilliant shot. The smoke of your pistol camouflaged itself into the ceiling’s belt of fog. Cigarettes, similar to the one you now pulled out from a pocket to light. This job was not only stressful, it was stress. No mission could be easy, no day could go according to plan, and no panicked mob of refined guests could leave the building in an orderly fashion. People swarmed to the exits at the sound of the gunshot, tripping over one another and abandoning their guests to, presumably, your slaughter.

You took a drag of your cigarette, pressed it between your lips, and gathered the suit jacket that had been on the back of your chair. Movements slow and deliberate, it was a wonder how the guard dogs Whimson had sent to Illinois hadn’t turned around yet to catch you. Good for you, but stupid on their part. Nevertheless, you were out of the manic tide of bidders before they could even realise their owner was slumped against the mahogany, brain matter splayed on his dress shirt.

The sound of clicking dress shoes amidst the cacophony of panic sent leftover guests into hiding, with the thought that anyone that calm in the sea of chaos was in control of the situation, and that anyone who wouldn’t do anything to stop it was not to be messed with. This gave you the perfect path towards your new target. Calling out Illinois’ name was unnecessary, given you could already hear distant shots echoing down the hallways.

And when you came to the end, asking where those gunshots were meant to hit was also unnecessary.

The wall behind Illinois was pepped with holes, like a coral beach, while Whimson’s bodyguards looked relatively unharmed. From your position, it looked like Illinois was doing everything he could to dodge the bullets, and nothing to actually fight back. Putting your cigarette out on a recently polished cabinet, you delved into the fray.

The first man down was yours, with an ornamental vase smashed against his skull, the kind of ones only used for grasping at when someone’s strangling you, but they still worked well to knock him out. Next down was his friend, who charged at you with intent to kill, but a shard of the broken porcelain stuck in his throat sent him to the ground. Blood trickled from the cut like a damaged water fountain, but none of the others paid him mind. Really, how would they ever survive without comradery?

You didn’t know, because they wouldn’t; Illinois, in tandem with your bloodier style, brought a table leg down onto another of the staff, the frail wood cracking the second it touched his head. The man whirled around with fury in his eyes, but those soon rolled back with the force of a punch to his face. You watched on, subtly impressed, though now was no time to ogle. Instead, you could do so after these people had been dispatched.

Strikes to the lower abdomens, blunt-force trauma to their foreheads, and what you hoped were lethal cracks of bone kept everyone wanting to live away from the corridor. You brought one dress shoe down on a woman’s fingers, sighed at the pitiful crunch that was muffled by her scream, and then stood up to assess the situation. One, two, three- four, two were on top of each other, and the one that Illinois was currently bashing against the wall. That made five at the scene.

Six, if you were to include the one that popped a bullet past your thigh. Lousy shot, they barely grazed the clothing, though it was a shame; that outfit had been one of your favorites.

Swiping a hand to your gun, you whirled around to see a particularly bulky bastard rounding the corner you’d come from. Illinois jumped to your side to look at the arrivals and took notice of your weapon in quick fashion. If only he had more trouble with brutalizing that last one, you might have hit the bullseye.

But a pressure on your wrist distracted you enough to miss. With your target swiveling to look at the newly cracked mirror and one end of the corridor swarmed by suited staff members, your night was only getting worse, and you lamented as such while Illinois dragged you down to the only available exit.

Your job required a lot of running – more than the average desk job did, at least – and that was why your legs were able to work on autopilot despite the adrenaline working through your veins that pressured you to be aware of every little thing that crossed your mind. The shattered glass from dropped plates, the swinging of doors as the last party members escaped, the texture of Illinois’ hand that had steadily moved to wrap around your own fingers. He was decorated with callouses and rough patches, war wounds sustained in the battlefield of caves and climbing. They told a story, one that you could have read had you enough time, but, for now, you had to be satisfied with knowing his present – told to you, not by his skin, but by you also experiencing it at his side.

That involved the darting through doors, ducking under pipes, skirting around the staff members who hadn’t gotten the memo. You didn’t even have the chance to ask where Illinois was bringing you, too focused on not slamming straight into a wall. The steady sounds of boots marching behind you, of which you counted six or seven, propelled you forward, like striking a match against a line of gas. You barely felt conscious throughout the run; the rattle of Illinois’ pickup truck went over your head, and the jingle of a bar’s bell hardly registered until you were seated in one of the old bar seats where you came to, a drink in your hand and Illinois staring right at you. Well, not just staring right at you, but also spilling every bad pick-up line in his book.

“I was wondering if you had an extra heart, because mine was just stolen.”

You had half a mind to put your martini down and walk out the door.

“I’m really glad I bought life insurance, because when I saw you, my heart stopped.”

Did he have life insurance?

“You must be a bank loan, because you’ve got my int—”

“Why do you even want that thing, anyway?” you interrupted, vaguely gesturing to the crown peeking out of his satchel with your non-drink hand.

“So, now you’re interested?” he chuckled, but only stopped long enough to order a whiskey before he commented, “The crown of Dos Partom, an old relic from the Mesopotamian era. No idea how it ended up in a bidding war, but, really, it belongs in a museum—” he shot a glance to the side, acting as though he hadn’t been watching you for the past ten minutes, “—that, and the company isn’t bad.”

So, he was the cocky type? You could’ve guessed that from the million stories about his personality, but it was a wonder to see it in action. Sure, you had a habit of using your charisma to get into places you shouldn’t have been, but this? What was he hoping to achieve? You’d already saved his ass from Whimson’s lackeys, and yet there he was, perched on the bar stool next to you, continuing his verbal assault of shoddy lines. Your eyes rolling and your annoyance growing, you twisted in your seat and removed a cigarette from your belt’s pocket. Normally, on mission days, you had five or six, a large step down from when you had days off, and yet this day was taking its toll on your stash.

“You shouldn’t smoke, y’know.”

And so, too, was Illinois taking his toll on your patience.

“It’s not good for you.” Regardless, you continued your strut to the backgarden of the bar. Lucky for you, despite the lateness, the weather had taken pity on you. A gentle breeze carved through the foliage and guided the smoke of your cigarette into the moonlit sky. The growl of cars and humming of lights brought you to lean against the white brick wall and take in the scenery. When you got a moment to yourself, appreciating where you were was the best you could do – because, who knows, you could be dead tomorrow.

You took another drag, and then placed it on your bottom lip as you retrieved your phone. It was just a burner that you took on missions, but it had all the essentials, including the number of your assigned agency representative. The handlers, you called them. You didn’t know the name of yours, but you trusted them with everything about yourself; where you were, who you were with, what you were doing down to the shift of a foot. Right now, you were entrusting them with the simple name of your mission and the promise of it having been finished at your normal quality.

“Berlin, 1996,” you muttered as you typed the letters.

“Keeping a diary there, sweetheart?”

Could you catch a break? Apparently not, you assumed, as the sight of Illinois wrapped around the corner. His hat was off, held in one hand, and both your drinks in the other. You met his eyes, he stared back, and then you removed your glass.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“What do you want?”

Illinois pretended to be shocked, reeling back and pressing his hat to his chest. “Me? Want something? From you?” he gasped, a smirk overthrowing his lips only when you didn’t react. “Not at all.”

“Don’t play dumb, Jones,” you warned.

“I appreciate that you think I play dumb.”

That teasing smile, the glistening eyes, you had to look away before you did anything drastic. Whether that was punching him or kissing him, you didn’t know, but you knew that looked off into the well-trimmed hedges halted the urge. “I know you’re not just a pretty face, what do you want?”

“And I’m pretty?” Another chuckle. “You don’t need to say all that to get me interested.”

“Just—” you took a breath in, “—tell me what you want from me, and then we can part ways. Easy.”

“And what if I don’t want it to be easy?”

Someone inside the bar shouted that it was last call, but neither of you moved to grab your final drinks. Neither of you moved, at all. You stayed still, Illinois stayed still, and the only sound between you was the buzz of moths at the dangling light just a few inches away. Illinois was… he was something else, that was for sure. Either he was going to kill himself, or you were going to kill him yourself. No matter what, you wanted to be there for it.

Reaching out, you pulled a thumb along his jawline and took a sip of your martini out of the other hand. Illinois was too stunned to speak, leaving you the chance to remove your hand, snatch his hat and shove it onto his head in one, fast motion. He made some sort of sound, one that you didn’t catch as you waltzed back into the bar.

Illinois, standing in the porchlight, laughed to himself and followed you inside – and then, in another year, five months and two days, he’d be doing the exact same thing, except, this time, with a golden band around both of your fingers.

[As a Brit myself, and having seen neither James Bond nor Indiana Jones, this was a treat for me! Thank you for requesting! Also, as some of you may have noticed, I have currently closed my requests because exam season is coming up, but I should be back around the end of June. Thank you for sticking with me, and, again, thank you for requesting!]

#markiplier #illinois x reader #illinois #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier egos #fanficiton #theknightmarket #x reader #request #reader insert #oneshot #Indiana jones #James bond

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iloveyou-writers · 1 year

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This is a bit of a dumb concern of mine. So i post bits of my wip sometimes, but i'm noticing the very unfortunate pattern of people interacting with just stuff i reblog and not the stuff i post. And like... i know it's not about the notes, i'm just sharing for fun, but idk if it's because people don't like my stuff or if they just don't see it or what but it's a little discouraging. I'm not even gonna lie, the thought, "what's the point of me posting if no one's reading it anyway?" has crossed my mind several times. Just not sure if i should continue posting my stuff or give up on that.

I don't think it's a dumb concern, and I understand it's discouraging. I also understand wanting people to interact with your stories, you're not wrong for wanting that. You ought to just remind yourself that lack of engagement doesn't mean your stories aren't interesting, or that they're bad. It can also be hard to gather traction online.

I don't want you to give up, but I want you to do what feels right. If you decide to ease off on posting online for a while, I hope you keep writing. ♡

// D

What Nisey said. Honestly, it took me like 5 blogs and hundreds of posts before I started getting noticed. Part of it is in how you tag things, part of it is in how you talk about your writing. Sad to say, the popularity of your posts isn't necessarily about the quality of them. Sometimes just making a silly meme that everyone relates to will bring attention to your blog or making an ask game everyone can enjoy.

That said, it shouldn't just be about the engagement. Of COURSE as a writer you want people to be reading your writing but at the end of the day, what matters is your own love of your writing. If not getting the engagement you want is taking away from your enjoyment of writing your story, maybe step back from posting them and come up with a posting plan.

Honestly, the running of your blog should be all about what YOU want out of it. If your goal for your blog is more engagement, maybe try looking at what bigger blogs did to get more engagement and figuring out how you can incorporate it into your own blog and ideas.

If your goal is to have your writing out there for the world to see, you're already doing it, even if people aren't necessarily seeing it.

But the OTHER thing I wanted to point out other than all of this is just because you're not getting notes on these things, it doesn't mean people aren't reading and loving the crap out of your works. A shocking amount of readers are shy to comment when they read or interact with things they read, so sometimes you'll have a ton of readers you don't realize you have until you do or say just the right thing to get the shy person out of their shell. For me, it's been when I've shut down my blogs or when I've been struggling with my depression and they came out of the shadows to sweetly encourage me. But what would bring them out of their shells really depends on the reader.

One fun way to get more engagement is to make an ask game based off of your WIP or characters. Ask questions that pertain to your OCs and use your OCs names instead of letters and numbers. Or use the names of the societies named in your WIP. Things like that. It can be a fun way for information to be subtly passed around writeblr without you having to infodump.

You could add a little blurb at the end about your wip and tag "if you wanna know more about this world/wip/these characters, follow me at [blog]" at the end.

Hope this helps and you feel more of a fire in your belly. I'm sure you're doing much better than you feel. It's always easy to ignore the victories when they're not in the areas we wish they were 🥰

🤍 H

(Sorry for the long ranty reply. I've never given all this advice to anyone struggling with engagement before, but with how many asks we get about it, I figured it was about time to give some advice outside of "don't worry so much about engagement!")

#writers of tumblr #asks #anonymous #writing engagement

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violet-snail-girl · 4 months

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Some relationship musings and thoughts on coming out/being outed against my wishes under the cut

So my partner hasn't exactly been The Best about not outing me to people without permission so far. It thankfully hasn't caused any serious problems (yet) but I still don't like that control being taken away from me on who I'm out as trans to

Right after I came out to her she... struggled with processing things. She outed me to one of her friends the next day without telling me or asking (I only found out after talking to her later) and kinda pressured me to come out to one of our mutual friends earlier than I planned to so she could talk to that friend about me being trans. I know it wasn't malicious, she struggles with change and has a hard time processing things without talking to others but she did definitely pressure me into coming out to a few people before I wanted to

She also called off our engagement when I came out to her (honestly I thought she was going to break up with me for a solid week or two) so the not wearing her engagement ring after we'd already announced getting engaged and she'd been wearing it for a few months prompted some questions. She's not good at lying (and I can kinda understand not wanting to lie to family members even if I don't agree with it) which kinda led to her outing me against my wishes a couple more times

Not long after I came out to her she visited her mom, who asked about her not wearing the engagement ring. Her mom ended up guessing that I was trans, which my partner ended up confirming. This specifically made me pretty uncomfortable to hear about because my partner's stepdad (ish, it's a weird dynamic) has said some kinda transphobic stuff and I really wasn't comfortable with him knowing. It ended up turning out well enough, but it was really uncomfortable for me

A few months ago we visited her grandparents and some of her extended family. I'd given permission for her to out me to one of her cousins (who is also queer and we both trust) but she ended up outing me to her grandmother too when they were talking about the aforementioned cousin. Again, it wasn't a problem since her grandma was supportive, but it still could have been a problem. That weekend we were also kinda dodging questions about when we were planning on getting married (because my egg cracking pushed that back for obvious reasons) and after we left there was a scare that her grandmother had outed me to the rest of the family, but she actually just poorly explained why we were pushing off getting married

Anyway we're back to being engaged again and she's visiting her grandparents again this weekend, without me this time. She'll be meeting up with some of her extended family as well and since she's wearing her engagement ring there's going to be more wedding questions. She was kinda pressuring me again about coming out to her extended family and also saying that she didn't want me to be there for coming out to her family because she's worried about how they might react which is honestly valid, I'm just not ready to be out to her extended family

I guess we'll see how things go after this weekend but I'm just worried. I don't really blame her for most of the outing me against my will but it still felt shitty. She's not perfect in many ways (especially relating to queer identity) but she tries and I absolutely love and adore her. She's amazing despite some of these issues but idk. I'm valid for feeling like it's pretty shitty of her to out me against my will or pressure me to come out before I'm ready, right?

I haven't talked to her in detail about my feelings on this (honestly I'm kinda using this as a way to organize my feelings about this) so I know she doesn't really understand how it's made me feel but it still sucks

I don't really know the point of this? Advice is welcome but I'm also kinda just trying to get my thoughts organized and out there while also venting about something I haven't exactly been able to vent about

#violet's rambles #trans #transgender #relationship thoughts #queer #coming out

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 8 months

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I don't really think I need any tws? Maybe tw for me hating that I'm half deaf and need a hearing aid. Oh and also tw for swearing.

Looking for: just wanna vent and maybe some advice

So I'm deaf in one ear. And it never really bothered me that much. Sure it was kinda annoying sometimes cuz I gotta focus real hard to even hear something but I never really hated it. But now, because I'm deaf, I have to go to many MANY appointments. Mri scans, hearing aids, hearing tests, it's all so annoying. I have to miss school to go there sometimes too. Its so fucking annoying I hate it so much. I've had SO many hearing tests and the thing they put in ur ear to test, that thing is SOOOOO painful, my ear would be ringing and in so much pain afterwards. The beeping sounds would feel like a bullet was shot in my head. I didn't tell the doctors this cuz Idk what are they even gonna do about it, give me a pep talk? But those tests were temporary so it wasn't that bad. But now, they're telling me that I should use a cros hearing aid, I tried it on and oh my god it was SO painful I don't even know how to explain. The pain of that aid was so overwhelming I couldn't even concentrate on anything else. I told them that me and my family will think about it more and let them know if I will wear it or not. My parents didn't really liked that, they told me that I have to wear it cuz year 10 is coming and it's gonna be really hard to concentrate in classes with a hearing aid, I really get their point and I know I should wear it, that's the most logical thing to do. But I just don't want to. I don't wanna wear that thing. I don't wanna have to wear painful thing in my ear just to function like how normal people do. They say that it will be more comfortable with time but I think it's gonna take like months to get used to it, I don't think I can bear the pain that long. Even after that wearing test my ears still hurt for DAYS, and I only wore it for a few seconds. Imagine how painful it would be to wear it for forever. This whole thing is starting to make me hate my disability, I hate being deaf why wasn't I just born normal. I hate having to bear pain just to be normal. Why do I have to do this, I don't want to be stuck with a stupid hearing aid for the rest of my lifes. Worse is I have a low pain tolerance so it just makes it more painful. I don't want to wear it. I don't want to go to appointments like once every two weeks. It's so fucking annoying I fucking hate it. I don't know what to do. I know the most logical thing to do is to wear it cuz it has many advantages, but I don't think I can bear the pain. What should I do? I'm so conflicted about this whole thing

-🦆

Hi 🦆,

I'm sorry to hear about the struggles you've been facing. It must be so frustrating to be in an environment where the ability to hear is assumed. On top of the various tests and appointments you've undergone, it must feel incredibly isolating as well. But please know that you're not alone, and you are seen.

It's important that you are given full autonomy in this situation because it is your body and your condition so you deserve the right to say what you want to do. It's disappointing that it seems like your parents don't understand or respect your perspective or preferences. While some other kind of hearing aid may be less painful, it should ultimately be your choice whether or not you want to use one.

You don't deserve to feel pressured or forced to wear a hearing aid at the convenience of others, and especially as a student you deserve to have accommodating care that can help you learn effectively without a supplement like a hearing aid. Your school may be different but as an autistic my high school offered things like extra time, alternate location, stand and stretch, and other things. It may be worth looking into whether or not your school offers accommodations for HoH folks and what kinds of alternatives they offer.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #🦆#tw ableism

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chiefwritesbook · 8 months

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Writeblr Q&A

I have been tagged by @scifimagpie (ty for tag) so I shall attempt to answer these questions lezzgo

1. What motivates you to write?

The soup brain has too many thoughts & I have to get them out. Also spite because my asshole 8th grade English teacher said my writing assignment was only worth a C (he was the ONLY one btw I got consistently vv high grades before him) & my Chinese immigrant friend got marked down for not being good at English. Fuck you Mr English teacher

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

(idk have this one from early chapter 2 I guess)

“You mean to say that I was bait,” Talin said.

“Not the word I would use, but in a way, yes,” Red Wolf confessed.

“Why?”

“You have been on the throne for less than a year. If someone wants you dead this quickly, something is amiss. I’d like to find out what.”

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

My boy Red Wolf. He's just...yes. Autistic werewolf puppy. Could definitely kill me without hesitation or talk me to death with weapons knowledge. I would thank him if he punched me.

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

I like not writing.

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Worldbuilding, no doubt. I am simultaneously the best and worst at worldbuilding. You want a 2000-word essay on how languages & regional dialects evolved over time? I gotchu covered no problem. Want me to stop elaborating on how Hellhound magic is linked to the moon & actually write my sequels? Absolutely not.

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I think the writeblr community is chill. Like y'all are just here for a good time and I can 100% respect that & get behind it. I get to write unhinged answers to these questions & not feel bad about it bc I don't have to self-impose ridiculous societal concepts such as 'maintain a professional image on social media'.

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

Scrivener? Am I allowed to say Scrivener even though I use at most like 2% of their features. I am the kind of person who if given nothing but a notes app & a two-hour uni class to sit through will hammer out a full chapter in those two hours instead of paying any attention to class. On the other hand if you want me to actually write during my free time I'm sorry I'm too busy procrastinating writing with art & procrastinating art with gaming.

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

This is not a wise question to ask me (see: question 5) unless the goal was to make me sit here for ten minutes typing out an entire essay's worth of worldbuilding word vomit, in which case well played. However for the sake of my own free time & sanity:

The legal system in Kies Tor is probably the single greatest thing I've ever constructed & it plays a crucial part in the plot & was built off the early British/European court system as well as my own special interests in law & criminology. In short it's trying its best but it's also deeply fucked up and I love making the fucked up parts fuck up my characters.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Don't feel pressured to write. If you're staring at the same thing for weeks/months on end of course it's gonna get stale. Heck this Q&A post is the most I've written in weeks.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters:

@witch-king-of-angstmar ofc (no pressure to answer tho) but other than that I never know who to tag. I have social anxiety what is an interacting. If you see this on your dash consider yourself tagged

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sharkneto · 2 years

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Hiii :) Can i ask for writing advice? If so, How do you write robs advice? Or how do you write a character giving advice to another character without being “problematic” and having the advice actually make sense? How do you make solutions in a fic?

I know solutions are not black and white but i still struggle with writing them. If you could help i would appreciate it so muchhh❤️

Oh, sure. I don't know how helpful I can be on this front, but I'll throw my two cents together.

So, part of it is just experience. Idk how old you are, but I am at least not desirable to Leonardo DiCaprio. Life has thrown me some real curveballs, I've done the therapy thing a couple times. Just having some life under my belt helps a lot in writing Rob stuff. I've got some perspective, I've talked with therapists and had my brain thoughts prodded and shaped to be Better, to be more aware of them and my emotions to better manage them.

So, that's what I'm drawing from when I write Rob stuff and advice. I try to do my best with it, but I wouldn't base anything Real off of what I have Rob say. I don't know that it would hold up under the scrutiny of an actual therapist. But I write what I think sounds good and makes sense to me from how I'm thinking about Number's thoughts/reasoning and where it should be interrupted/redirected. I know where Five's thinking is broken, so I know where Rob needs to prod.

And that's not to say you can't write people giving advice or therapist characters if you don't have experience with them. I'm really lucky I've been able to get the therapy I needed when I've needed it. But for writing it, all it's really based in is self-care and working on healthy thought patterns, which are things you can look up and read about. There are so many self-help articles and books out there. I also like listening to HealthyGamer on YouTube, which I recommend anyway. He's a therapist that interviews/talks with streamers and also breaks down big mental health ideas (how to set boundaries, ADHD, depression, gifted kids...). I've learned some good stuff from him, and his interviews are interesting.

I don't totally follow what you mean by problematic (message me a follow-up if there's a specific thing that's relevant). If it's a fear of giving bad advice, I have two fronts for that. 1) This is fanfic. I don't have a disclaimer of "hey don't follow any medical advice given in this fic" because I think that should be self-explanatory. I do the best I can, I work to make it sound good, but at the end of the day, I am writing this for free in my evenings after my real job. If someone is really mad about what I'm writing, there's a back button at the top of the screen. 2) You don't want all your advice to be Right. Characters have misunderstandings, maybe don't read a situation right and give the wrong advice. Maybe they're just not experienced enough to say the right thing or don't have all the information they need to make the right call. I think it makes it more meaningful to not have a 100% accuracy for a character doing/saying the right thing. They're human. It's more interesting, too.

How advice comes across also depends on the relationship of who's giving it and who's receiving it. In Joining Together, Rob is a psychiatrist, he's over 15 years older than Five, and isn't associated with the Umbrella Academy. Advice from him hits much different than, say, Klaus telling Five the same thing. Five might listen to Rob from the getgo. He is going to ignore Klaus on principle, at least until it really bites him in the ass and then he might grudgingly consider the advice. Use that, use your characters and their existing relationships to shape how advice is given and how it is heeded (or not). The reader may know if advice is good or not, but your characters don't - use that possible irony. It's delicious.

Lastly, and broadly, how do you make solutions in a fic. If you have a more specific question directed towards this, feel free to follow up. But, interpreting this as "how do you fix things" outside of the overarching plot, it's about having a starting point and and end point, and then mapping out how you get from Point A to Point B (...which is also what you do for the overarching plot). How you map is up to you - many people outline, I don't; it's all just in my head with a general trajectory. But you need little steps between those points so that readers can notice that progress is happening, that it's not a sudden change. An example from Joining Together is that Five had to go from Asshole Loner Number Five to Friends With Rob And Sarah. This took me like 60k words to do, which I did not expect, but was how slow it had to grow for it to feel realistic for Five. The steps we had to get through were 1) Five works with Sarah 2) Five realizes he respects Sarah 3) Five learns Sarah will apologize when she's hurt him 4) Five learns he can rely on Sarah for help when he's hurt 5) Five tries to go to Sarah for emotional help (he gets Rob) 6) Five learns both Rob and Sarah have his back and can be trusted -> Friends. How to pace a journey from A to B depends on the journey, the fic, and the fic length. The technical side of pacing growth is something you figure out through experience, just writing and playing around with what you're doing until you're happy.

This got long, but hopefully it's not just me rambling to hear my own voice and there's something helpful in there. I spend a lot of time just Thinking and then, once I do have words down on the page, tweaking to get it to flow and feel right.

#feel free to follow up if there was something specific #i like talking about writing so feel free to ask any time #altho caveat is that i'm just a hobby writer and making it up as i go #i enjoy what i write tho and seems like a lot of you do too #it's been fun to note how i've improved over the past two years #anyway - hope this is somewhat helpful and happy writing #writing #ask response #long post

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justapurrcat · 2 years

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73 questions

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? I would say 6.

describe yourself in a hashtag? #iftheworduncomfortablewasaperson

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? Tom. But I would be super awkward about it.

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? "Wrong Person, Wrong Time."

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? That I write fanfics.

what’s your wake up ritual? Don't have one. I just check my phone, regret not dying during the night, get up and skip breakfast.

what’s your go to bed ritual? I do my skincare routine, come up with many brilliant ideas I will not follow the next day, read/write on my phone until I pass out.

what’s your favorite time of day? Evenings (especially is the sunsets are pretty) and nights.

your go to for having a good laugh? Oh dear, I laugh so rarely I honestly don't know.

dream country to visit? Japan, absolutely. Now that I mentioned it, I might need to brush up my Japanese...

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? People not getting annoyed by my presence and saying they genuinely enjoy it and actively search for it... what's your plan?

heels or flats/sneakers? Sneakers, but I love heels and those who rock them.

vintage or new? Vintage.

who do you want to write your obituary? My best friends.

style icon? I... don't know, actually? Do the models in dark academia moodboard pics count?

what are three things you cannot live without? My phone, my cats, my friends.

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? Oregano/Mint/Paprika, it depends, but mainly these three.

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? Mmm... my mom (because she hates cooking, but she's being doing stuff for other people her whole life), my grandma (she's from the place where lasagne were "invented", so it would be a huge test), and my grandpa (who loved to cook, so I would love to hear his opinion).

what’s your biggest fear in life? Being useless and unworthy of love.

window or aisle seat? Window.

what’s your current tv obsession? I don't have one at the moment.

favorite app? Tumblr.

secret talent? I can sew and sing a little, I guess?

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? Meh, everything makes me uncomfortable, merely existing is adventurous enough for me.

how would you define yourself in three words? Dreamer, afraid, over-thinker.

favorite piece of clothing you own? Anything that's purple or lilac.

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? Black/white tank.

a superpower you would want? Teleportation, no doubts on that.

what’s inspiring you in life right now? Writing? Seeing where that can bring me? Idk next question.

best piece of advice you’ve received? "Make fun of it before others can, so they won't be able to hurt you"... given to me by myself.

best advice you’d give your teenage self? "No" is a nice word and you should say it more. Also, stop apologizing for everything. And DON'T make your eyebrows thinner!

a book everyone should read? The "My Brilliant Friend" tetralogy by Elena Ferrante.

what would you like to be remembered for? Nah, just forget me, it's embarrassing.

how do you define beauty? I don't.

what do you love most about your body? You mean despise the least? Probably my eyes, but on alternate days.

best way to take a rest/decompress? Listen to music, nap, cuddle a cat, if you have one.

favorite place to view art? In a museum.

if your life was a song, what would the title be? The Autumn of Violet Lilies.

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? Piano.

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? On my nape.

dolphins or koalas? Koalas.

what’s your spirit animal? A cat.

best gift you’ve ever received? A corset. It was technically mine, because I made it, but I got to keep it.

best gift you’ve given? A handmade doll.

what’s your favorite board game? Dixit.

what’s your favorite color? Purple in its every shade.

least favorite color? Orange.

diamond or pearls? Pearls.

drugstore makeup or designer? Both.

blow-dry or air-dry? Air-dry.

pilates or yoga? Yoga.

coffee or tea? I drink tea, darling.

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? Farthingale.

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? Milk.

stairs or elevators? Stairs.

summer or winter? Winter.

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? Pizza.

a dessert you don’t like? Pudding.

a skill you’re working on mastering? Living.

best thing to happen to you today? I got to spend some time with my best friends.

worst thing to happen to you today? Waking up still alive.

best compliment you’ve ever received? Unbelievably, something about my writing.

favorite smell? Flowers, especially lilies, roses and violets, chocolate, mint, vanilla.

hugs or kisses? Hugs.

if you made a documentary, would it be about? Historical garments.

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? "Tear Along the Dotted Line".

lipstick or lipgloss? Lipstick.

sweet or savory? Savory.

girl crush? Idk, I fall in love with everyone, I'm a bit of a whore under that aspect. Right now, Simone Ashley, Gemma Chan, Anne Hathaway and Sharon Alexie.

how do you know your in love? When you go "oh shit, this ain't gonna end well".

a song you can listen to on repeat? Anything by Taylor Swift, really... right now, it's "The Lakes".

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? My cat.

what are you most excited for about this time in your life? Beginning this new job.

tagged by @silkscream and @indouloureux thank you lovies 💜

tagging: @ahoefortomholland @jahayla-parker @thollandsdarling @buckybarnesandmarvel @spiderboytotherescue and whoever wants to do this⁓

#tag game #73 questions

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cowboyjen68 · 2 years

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Hi Jen!

Hope you're doing well 😊 I feel so silly sending an ask like this but honestly don't know who else to ask/vent to, at least not without feeling judged. Your blog seems to be somewhat of a lesbian advice column and I love it.

Okay so.. How can I tell if a girl likes me? And how do I tell her about my feelings for her? It's so childish, I know. I'm in my late 20s but I've never had a girlfriend before. I dated a guy for years when I was younger before I had the courage to come out. I've fooled around a little with women in the past, but I'm honestly really inexperienced when it comes to being with another woman. Especially the romance part of it. The confessing of feelings, planning dates, etc. I don't know how to do any of that, but I really want to. And I have this awful feeling like the window is closing before I'm just officially too old for any of it. I know that's probably just me freaking out.

Anyway. There's this woman I work with. She's so fucking smart and classy and beautiful, and she doesn't care what people think. She's always unabashedly herself. Her laugh makes me melt. I can't stop thinking about her. We have similar interests and we get along great. Lately we've been ordering each other coffees or food late at night (we work sometimes until 2am) I'm so into her it's insane. I'm just not sure how to tell her that/ask her out? Or even if that's a good idea? Given that we work together, would it be too weird & uncomfortable for her if she's not interested like that? We've hung out as friends a few times and we have plans to go to a concert together this summer and I'll be meeting her sister & brother. But I'm just not sure how to tell her about my feelings. The thing with her is, she's really shy. Like, painfully shy. When she was new at work, we all were worried she didn't like us or the job because she was so quiet. She's still pretty closed off with our coworkers, but I like to think she's different with me. Idk if that's just me wanting to feel special or what, but she doesn't hang out with any other coworkers outside of work and doesn't offer details about her life to anyone else at work either. No one else in our workplace knows she's a lesbian, and no one there knows that we hang out outside of work. I don't know what to make of it tbh, but I'm hoping it's a good sign? I just. Genuinely don't know how to tell if she has feelings for me or not. I get kind of mixed signals from her. She says she has fun when we go out, but on the other hand, she's never the one to make plans. It's always me asking her. I think I've just gotta tell her how I feel, but I'm so lost on how to do it. And this is pretty out of character for me. I'm never soft spoken or afraid to say anything. To say I'm straightforward would be an understatement. If anything, I've been told in the past to tone down how blunt I am. So why is this making me such a timid mess? It should be the simplest thing ever. Any advice would be greatly appreciated ❤

First I am going to tackle your feelings of a "window closing". You are not the only lesbian out in the world who waited a long time to come out. It is fairly common. Many of us (me included) tired to date men with the expected result of it not going that well. Dating men made me think, perhaps I was incapable of sexual interest and deep love like I read about in poetry or watched in movies. Then I allowed myself to envision being with a woman and suddenly my lack of passion made sense.

Now that you are out, even if to yourself, please take your time and date and figure out what makes you happy, who makes you happy.

The sterotypical "useless lesbian"trope is a joke and of course we are not useless when we have trouble picking up on cues. That is human. But the joke is somewhat based in reality. As women, we are conditioned to not really listen to our instincts. We tend to ingore signals and even red flags and second guess ourselves when it comes to flirting and friendship. W e feel like if we give off signals or try to pick up cues we are second guessing every detail over and over. If we are, like you. straight forward, we risk coming off as pushy or aggressive or “blunt” as you’ve been told.

Asking some one with whom you work is risky because you do work together so you are both “stuck” in the same space and the hope is, as two adults, no can be accepted gracioulsy and it won’t be weird. The fear is always, it will feel weird and make the other part uncomfortable. BUT the reality is we meet some of our social cirlce on the job because we spend a lot of time there.

My adivce is to speak to her outside of work. Ask her to coffee or to hang out as usual. Don’t go somewhere loud or crowded but do to to a public place, like a park or cafe. Tell her you really like her and if she is interested you would like to take her on a real date. Let her know her humor, her personalty sets you at ease and you enjoy time with her. Be clear you want to take her on a date. You don’t have to give her an out or be wishy washy. Don’t say “You don’t have to say yes but” or “I understand if you want to say no” this sets her up to feel like you are unsure of the whole idea. She is an adult and can say “no”.

If she says no take it graciously and agree that friendship is fine because you respect her boundaries and understand. If she says “yes” continue to be clear in communicaiton. Set some expectations for work She might not be comforable being out or “with you” at work. This is normal. Lots of people just want to work when they are at work and keep their personal lives personal. It is not an affront to you or being a lesbian.

It really is best to stop trying to read her mind and decifer every word and move. Have a talk with her and ask her out. Be clear and genuine. And respect her answer with grace.

#dating #lesbian #workplace

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