trying to actually sit down and write the sequel to despite the loss that set me free bc it's been over a year of it marinating in my brain and i want it to go ruin someone else's life instead and y'all

y ' a l l

writing is fkin HARD

Practising Goncharov Theme by @caramiaaddio on violin bc I thought it would add an extra layer of haunting…ness (is that a word?)

Here’s the excerpt I’m playing in the video:

Despite it being in a fuck off key for violin it is a really beautiful piece and it’s absolutely worth the trouble of practising in second position (world’s most hated position) and I’m HOPING 🤞 I can record and (maybe) post a full cover of it someday

of all the star wars movies, which of them do y'all 1) enjoy the most 2) consider the best quality and 3) think you've rewatched the most. add your answers in the reblogs or replies, i'm genuinely curious how much of an overlap there is within everyone's three answers. mine don't overlap at all! they're revenge of the sith, empire strikes back, and the force awakens :^)

im sorry but jason and reyna are literally percy and annabeth but so much more hardcore

I promised myself I wouldn't get mired in the weird moral chaos that is bg3's fandom, but I have a legitimate question: for a lot of fans, is this the first time playing with Choose Your Own Adventure stories?

The writing seems to be classic CYOA in the epilogues, at least with the evil post-game companions I've experienced. If you roleplay someone happy with your choices, the game generally reflects that those choices were satisfying in the exact way you'd expect. If you roleplay someone who regrets your choices or has doubts, it usually reflects that you should regret those choices. Either way, the "reader" is given a predictable response in order to fulfill their desired narrative.

Don't believe me? Go through the epilogue and try to play a character who both likes and hates every companion or where they ended up. Some changes are subtle while others are more dramatic. A few quick examples, all from a single save: Playing a character who hates Halsin, though you romanced him, your conversation is short, civil only because Halsin is too mature to rise to your insults, and stilted. He's a distant companion that you've pushed away successfully.

Playing a character who loves Halsin and romanced him, the conversation between you is extraordinarily long and sweet, and you are written as dear to each other. It includes, potentially: sharing stories and teasing him about his more salacious ones, talking about his love of children (and them loving the bear), learning how he's settled into his new life, hearing about him finally finding happiness, being welcomed into his community, welcoming him to share in drinks, and even joyfully adopting an owlbear. This image is just the very beginning of it.

Playing a character who disapproves of Shar but encourages Shadowheart to follow Shar anyway, you get a zealot's lecture about how you're being naive, thinking that Shar's exploiting people, likely confirming your feeling that she's a lost-cause cultist now. The happiness in the conversation is one-sided (from Shadowheart).

Playing a character who is fine with Shar and encourages Shadowheart to follow Shar, you get a short, sincere thank you, and she immediately starts trying to bond with you. The tone of the conversation remains upbeat as she expresses how pleased she is with the church despite its difficulties and how she'd do everything again in a heartbeat.

Playing a character who doesn't like being an immortal consort, but ascended Astarion and agreed to it anyway, gives you an Anne Rice-like fight between bitter eternal lovers. You also get some petulant dragging of your friends.

Playing a character who loves being an immortal consort and ascended Astarion gets you the dark fantasy of all-powerful monsters in love, gleefully ruling and exploiting the world (along with your friends and probably each other) together.

These are all valid endings to the exact same story with very different implications for the future. It's easy to muddy the potential narratives if you try to hold all the unique, mutually exclusive dialog options together.

Remember, at the end of the day, this is written as a linear experience. Everyone's epilogue choices are self-contained in their own story, even if it's possible to reload and choose a different final page. Have fun fishing for unhappy endings if the drama gives the flavor you enjoy, or seek out happy endings if you want to feel fulfilled by your choices. Just know that not everyone will experience or want to experience the same ending for an otherwise identical set of choices in game. That's the cool part of getting to choose your own adventure.

*taps microphone* so i’d just like to talk about all the little kids in coruscant who would absolutely be out of their mind with love and awe for the corrie guard, and their fire engine red painted armour

these kids

these kids would wait at their windows to watch them drive past their window on a scheduled patrol. they’d be so thrilled to see them in the market. or when Fox is standing next to Palpatine in the press in his extra red paint

their parent will be like ‘want to talk to them?’ and the kids will get all shy.

they might even draw pictures of them to give to them

because no matter what the adults think, abiut flesh droids or military police being given more and more responsibility (that theybwould see as power) as the war went on, but little kids know what’s up. they know how cool garbage men are, and fire men (with the shiny red paint), and other civil servants that adults don’t think are awesome but kids know

and you know, you just know that Sergeant Hound, with his cute mastiff and awesome bucket paint would be the absolute pinnacle of coolness to an eight year old coruscanti child

Of course, she has pictures with them but not with him. pouts. pouts.

When characters in aoex get upset over being a burden to their friends my soul literally withers away. like shut up shut up SHUT UP. When Shiemi calls herself useless i want to shake her by the shoulders because she's so strong, why can't she see that? Your friends love you they could never see you that way. When Rin berates himself or questions why Shirou would even save his life I feel sick, dude. i feel ill. When Koneko puts himself down and calls himself the weak link i feel like i've just been hit by a train. When Yukio as a little kid apologizes to his brother for the simple act of getting beaten up by bullies and needing help.... god. fuck. i'm not well.

If I'm going to keep mentioning Lucretia Garfield's heartbreaking letter after James cheated on her during their engagement, maybe I should just share it.

*

Cleveland, September 1, 1857

My dear James:

Yes, mine forever, though a destiny cruel and relentless separate us as far as the east is from the west. Whatever our earthly relations may be, we are one and belong to each other, and in view of this truth I no longer fear to reveal to you every thought. I know that my motives will be understood however freely I may speak. The fear which has so long sealed my lips that James might construe any expression of my real thoughts and feelings into a design on my part to gain my own selfish ends no longer haunts me. I believe that you trust me now, and I know that in my own heart has been awakened that confidence which brought such sweet peace to my spirit two years ago. James, do you know that it was the withdrawal of that confidence in me which pressed home to this grieving heart the keenest dagger! How many many times I have felt that if you would only love me just enough to come and tell me all, I could endure to know the worst; but to see you shrink away from me as though you could not endure my presence, and hide from me the truth, was almost more than I could bear. May Heaven spare me from ever living again such hours of bitter anguish. Pardon me for alluding to them. It is the last time. They have told upon my heart the lesson I trust they were sent to teach. Their mission has been fulfilled; let them pass unnoticed no longer. I would much rather rest with you beside Erie's moonlit waters and feel my heart throbbing against you own, while I talk to you tonight. But I will not wait until it may be so blessed before saying some things so long unsaid.

James, the bright ideal of life and love which are here held up before us was indeed very beautiful; but was it the true one? Can the human heart hear the tests to which it may be submitted by it? I had hoped it might. Indeed, I had almost, yes, entirely trusted that a love as pure and deep as I believed ours to have been could never never meet with anything that could possibly turn it from its course or prove ever the slightest interruption. I was telling Mother this and remarked that it might be an error. Her reply was that if there was no danger of any such thing happening if two loving hearts could find only in each other all that would satisfy, there would have been no necessity for the marriage vow.

May be it is so. If there could be no temptation, no danger of turning to another, why register in Heaven the vow of constancy? I blame you for nothing, for whatever you may have done I believe your heart's faithfulness; and allowed the generous and gushing affection of your warm impulsive nature to go out in all its fullness toward another than the one to whom you had pledged your all. All innocently as this was done, I can not blame you, and could the effect which all the past of our intimacy might have over you be blotted out, I would say to you this hour, go and marry Rebecca; and hereafter trust not your heart so far. Rebecca is a good and noble girl, in many aspects far my superior but she loves you no better than Crete. If, however, you love her better, if she can satisfy the wants of your nature better, and more than all, if you can with her become a good and noble man in spite of all the Past, Crete can give you up. And pronounce upon your Love a sister's blessing. You told me that judgment prompted you to another course, that to feel yourself an honourable, generous man you must take me alone to your heart. Let feeling dictate whatever it might. I have thought I could never allow that, that I could never be your wife unless every feeling of your heart seconded the decisions of reason. Perhaps I asked too much, but, James, to be an unloved wife, O Heavens, I could not endure it. I am not exacting. It would excite no spirit of jealousy in my heart to know that my husband admired and even loved a thousand others, and know that they possessed traits superior to mine, but I do feel it to be my right to claim this sole assurance, that I am his choice; and that however much he may find to be more admired in others he will not turn away from me to them, but rather seek to correct my faults, and make me like them. I want to find in my husband that strength of love, which can steel itself against every attraction that might come between us, which will hold me nearest his heart in spite of every impulse which an ardent nature might feel. Now, James, I freely pardon any error your ignorance of the human heart may have led you to commit, but I do hope whatever course you may take that hereafter you will be more guarded for your own happiness if nothing more. It pains me to see you so miserable as you are at times, and sometimes I feel that I could dare almost anything, even for the hope of making you happy again. But could I--could I become your wife and see that best hope fail! Oh no, no, no. If it would not fail, may God help me to know it. Then I will make the trial. James, write to me very soon. Keep nothing back that is in your heart

[Update about daily life that I'll spare you from]

Yours most lovingly,

Crete

The Sun vs My Star

The sun saw me

And they cursed

They scoffed, spat

And they shot down their hurt

To that, I laughed

And to that, I declared

You know not, flaming fool,

The worth of the darkness I possess

Of solitude and secrets and safety combined

Of sweet stolen seconds

And soft touches shared

Sunlight, burn and die, I do not care

The sun shines in vain,

Futile, I have no use for it

For, even without its radiance

I see who you are, baby

My love transcends vision

All human sense and mortal passion

The sun's light is useless to me,

I do not need it to see you as you are, honey

So...yeah, I had very fruity vibes while writing this.

Maybe don't read the tags?

🌙 Transgressor Yuri moodboard. 🌙

cis authors stop giving trans characters the gender-swapped version of their deadname as their chosen name challenge !!

i need to go to sleep right now but i've got zimon in the brain and i know i won't be able to sleep until i do something to get him out of the brain but i can't get up to draw right now and i sure as hell can't get up to write that would take me around 11 years so i'll just sit here and rotate him in my mind like a burnt chicken

Kidcat AU? Who is the kid? are they a literal cat at any point?

KIDCAT AU KIDCAT AU this is mine and @lady-stormbraver's baby (Lady gets credit bc she's my brainstorming and plotting partner on it)!!!! the kid is Tim because I watched The Batman 2022, saw Bruce and Selina being weird stalkers (affectionate) and I went oh hey you know who else is a stalker and has a lot of love in his heart? TIMBERLY. and decided I wanted a Reevesverse Stray AU. this version of Selina sooooo needs a weird little nerd kid following in her shadow. also a big part of the premise is that 1) Jason and Tim hit it off, realize that they consider each other brothers, and decide they're going to Parent Trap(TM) Bruce and Selina, and 2) Dick is in his Hot Mess Era and is wearing a leather jacket with the Discowing suit and at one point ill-advisedly bleached his hair because he thought it would tick off Bruce and he's not great at being an older brother to one little sibling, let alone one (official) little sibling AND the cat-themed tagalong who's hanging around nowadays. this scene takes place a fair bit through the AU and is kind of a turning point in Dickie's character arc in this 'verse.

Batman is out of town, which means Nightwing is in town.

B isn't actually that far, just swapped cities for the night because a lead he'd been tailing ended up taking him to Blüd and he asked Dick, stiltedly and struggling, to cover his patrol route in Gotham tonight. Dick had agreed, because he's been on better terms with Bruce lately and is trying to keep it that way and not completely live up to his name, like Jason likes to say. Anyway, he's not patrolling alone. He's just babysitting, really, though he figures if Selina is out she's keeping her eyes on the kids as well, and possibly him, too.

Robin and Stray took a separate patrol route from his, and Dick had argued with Jason for ten minutes before they took it to Alfred, who cleared that they're allowed to split off like that. Dick does not really want to be babysitting, but he also really doesn't want to screw it up.

"Nightwing!" Comes a sudden, loud cry through his earpiece that almost makes Dick, even with a literal lifetime of practiced balance, miss his landing. "Dick, something's wrong," Jason says, voice tight. "Tim passed out and won't wake up and shit, I'm breaking the names rule, just- Dick, help."

Dick feels like someone's dumped a glass of ice water over his head and maybe broken the glass on his skull for good measure. The chill settles directly under his ribs. Jason never asks for help, not his help, at least. His mind plays a dozen scenarios of gas or gunshots or gang fights and he grapples to the top of the nearest building almost on instinct. When lost, climb to a high point. He deliberately stills at the top, takes a slow breath so his voice won't shake. That one momentary pause is better than the minutes he may have to spend calming Jason if he lets him hear the terror Dick is feeling. "What's your location, Robin?" He asks, sends the request to Alfred, back at the Manor, at the same time.

Jason replies immediately with two street names, the closest corner he remembers, at the same time Alfred pings with a precise coordinate. The running leap Dick takes off the building isn't as smooth as it would be otherwise, if he wasn't responsible for Jason and Tim tonight. If he wasn't freaking terrified thinking of things that could have happened to Sel's tiny little shadow who, yeah, okay, Dick is a bit fond of himself. What Jason could be dealing with, the goddamned protective instincts in that kid has for everyone but himself sometimes. No extra flips tonight, no wasting time on showing off or having fun. It wouldn't be fun, anyway, tonight.

Dick isn't Nightwing when he touches down, not really. He's just a teenager looking for another teenager and the little kid they've both claimed as brother. Sometimes he thinks that's all that holds him and Jason together, other than Bruce. He finds what he's looking for on a roof, tucked away in the nook formed between a high concrete railing and the roof access stairs to the building below.

Jason is a bright flare of red and green and Dick rushes toward him, only remembering too late that Jason flinches, and badly, and that he should have slowed down. Tim is slumped in Jason's arms, black cat-eared hood already pulled down away from his face, the older boy curled protectively around the little black form.

"Robin," Dick says, snapping himself back into Nightwing mode, "Report. What happened?"

"I don't know," Jason snaps, eyes flicking back and forth from Tim, who looks half-conscious, at least, to Dick like he thinks Dick is going to try and take Tim away from him. "He seemed off all night, kinda slow, I guess? We were patrolling like normal, nothing weird, but he just... collapsed. He's burning up."

"Okay," Dick says. "Okay." Slowly, this time, a lot like how he acts with victims — although he hates thinking of it like that, because this is, essentially, his brothers — he reaches towards Tim.

Jason all but growls at him, holding the smaller boy tighter. "Don't touch him."

Dick sits back on his heels. "Jason," he says, "Jay, you've gotta let me check him out, okay?"

Jason eyes him from behind his mask, and it feels a lot like he's taking that one second that Dick took earlier to calm himself. It feels like Dick is becoming both a big brother and Nightwing at the same time. "Okay," he says, and visibly makes himself relax when Dick reaches out again.

"It's okay," Dick says, briefly placing a hand on Jason's head without even thinking about it as he checks Tim's pulse with the other. It's quick, fluttery but not uneven. "You're right, he's running a pretty high fever." Tim's eyelids flicker, and Dick brings a hand up to his face, taps his cheek gently with one gloved finger. "Heya, kitten, you with us?"

Tim blinks sluggishly, eyes half-lidded and clearly not totally lucid. "Nigh'wing?" He mumbles, body suddenly tensing like he's trying to sit up, but Jason holds him tight.

"Relax, baby cat, be still," Jason says, frowning down at him as Tim squirms momentarily. He glances up to make eye contact with Dick, but mostly they both stay fixated on the youngest of them.

Tim stills, his head resting against Jason's shoulder. "Jay..." he breathes, relaxing against this older boy, whose face goes softer than Dick even knew it could.

"We should get him home," Dick says quietly. Jason looks up at him, and Dick can see the but you only have a motorbike counter coming a mile away. "I'll call the 'Mobile."

"F...reakin' autopilot," Jason scoffs, but Dick can see some of the tension ease out of him. "Dick?"

"Hm?" Dick stands to watch for the headlights of the Batmobile. Hopefully Alfred has been on comms tonight and already sent a message to Selina, because Dick feels like he's juggling and not very smoothly.

Jason hesitates long enough to make Dick turn, catching the moment Jason turns his wide, greenish-blue eyes from staring after Dick back to focus on Tim. "Will you call B, too?" He asks, his voice just a little shaky.

Dick sighs. "Yeah, Jay. I'm calling him."

At the end of the day, or in this case, at the end of the night, he wants his dad too. Maybe that's another thing that holds them together.