#so i deleted a handful of my blogs a few weeks ago
Text
You know, I think I'm starting to understand why the sharing culture on this site is such dogshit now.
As I mentioned earlier in the week, I spent several solid hours going through my art and writing tags as far back as 2012 and manually deleting everything I found, including all of my own reblogs, because I don't expect my opt out from having my blogs' data scraped to be honoured, and seeing the difference in the way people interacted with my work back then and the way they interact with it now (or the way they don't interact with it at all, more specifically) was deeply and tragically enlightening.
tl;dr, despite having had a fraction of the followers back then that I have now, as well as being an objectively better artist and writer than I used to be 10+ years ago, my work travelled further and people engaged with it more, and they also sent me asks with drabble prompts and questions about my OCs all the time, whereas none of that happens at all anymore. This place was a lot more communal back in that pre-2016 era and generally a lot more rewarding and fun.
There's been plenty of posts going around over the last few years begging people to reblog because that's how this site works, but every one of those posts always winds up lousy with people saying they just click "Like" on things because they like them but not enough to put them on their own blog, or because they don't want to clutter their blog, or because tagging things is too much effort or whatever, and I'm noticing a pattern. There's something that all of these common responses have in common:
All of these people are wholly concerned with themselves and the way their blog looks, or what their blog is supposed to be for, or some other similarly entirely self-centred point of focus.
Listen. Other people have already tried to explain to you that that's not what this place is about or what this place is for or that you can make as many sideblogs as you want if you're trying to curate something specific, and they've had little success in emparting understanding to you, so I'm going to try a different approach.
Here are ten (10) benefits of reblogging that will make this site more fun and engaging for you, personally! ( b ._.)b
You get to keep the thing for yourself, but you also get to pass it along for other people to play with, too! Best of all worlds. How often do you get to keep a thing and share it?
Look in your Activity after you reblog something you enjoy to find other people who like the same things that you do! This is a terrific way to find new people to follow.
Sometimes you'll make a comment when you reblog something and later find that an awful lot of strangers are reblogging it from you directly for some reason. This is usually because someone else later down the line made a much stupider and worse comment and those strangers are now all clicking on your reblog so that they can reblog the post without that other person's stupider and worse comment on it. I like it a lot when this happens. You can get a lot of new followers this way, too!
Even if you don't have the time or spoons to play with jpegs like dolls yourself, your reblog can put the post in front of those folks who do. Playing with jpegs like dolls is half of what makes this site function; give it a bit of time, and the jpegs will cross your dash again with new additions. As it is with anything you love, set it free, and the love will come back to you one hundredfold. 💜
Look in your Activity after reblogging some art or writing to see people going nuts in the tags. You can also go nuts in the tags if you want; everyone loves seeing this when it happens, especially the artist or writer themselves.
Commenting with your reblog is like raising your hand to share your opinion with the whole room, whereas reblogging with your comment in the tags is more like whispering to the person next to you and keeping it between yourselves. Contrary to what you might have been told by others, both are perfectly fine and good and they each have their place. You can do both on the same reblog, even! Take part in the conversation!
If you're too shy to talk, reblogging without commentary is a lot like parallel play. You're all enjoying the same thing quietly together!
When you reblog things a lot, you'll start to see the same people popping up in your Activity feed all the time. These people are your friends whether you actually talk to them or not.
Stuck for something to say? Point out something you liked about the post! It can be something small! Acknowledging things that make you happy out loud is good for your mental health and also your soul.
Reblogging also invites other people who are doing all of these things to find and follow you!
There's so much to do on here beyond checking your dash and occasionally looking at the For You tab. You can discover all kinds of people and things by making a bit of an effort and having a poke around in your Activity feed and on the blogs of people who interact with the posts you're seeing and passing along! I promise you don't need an algorithm to do this for you; the action of exploring the landscape around you on this website is fun in its own right!
Get out there and see who your neighbours are. 💜
337 notes
·
View notes
Note
firstly I love your new blog layout it’s so fucking cute, secondly I love you 💕 thirdly, for your baby prompts, I’m thinking……… butterfly
happiness is a butterfly
got a little carried away with this one. 3k words of modern day!best friend!eddie munson x afab!reader. contains: fluff, alcohol, confessions of feelings, bisexual reader, two friends in a room who might kiss (they do), suggestive innuendo (eddie’s a sweetheart), and argyle’s matchmaking ways. thank you @breddiemunson and @ghost-proofbaby for always calming my wild thoughts, and katie’s line where eddie asks reader not to make him say what she already knows. genius, that one.
-
“happiness is a butterfly
try to catch it like every night
it escapes from my hands into moonlight…”
happiness is a butterfly - lana del rey.
-
Photo after photo. Swipe after swipe. Endless hopefuls that aren’t really hopefuls, because there aren’t many of those in Hawkins these days.
No—there are merely boys, wearing the skin of men, playing with hearts with a carelessness that leaves damage in their wake. Leaves your heart ripped to shreds; battered and bruised. Wounded, but not broken, with jagged lines where smooth surfaces had once been.
Tonight is no different. Tonight you mourn your relationship with Travis. Travis, who played hockey and apparently a different girl or guy in every state. You’d only found out through social media.
One of the girls he brought back to his hotel room had posted an image on her story while he slept, which then surfaced on another person’s social media account, and then eventually became a social media article on some gossip website you couldn’t, for the life of you, be bothered to remember.
You suppose the “Travis debacle,” as Eddie has been calling it, is your fault. A guy from out of town. The allure of some famous player with a broken down car in front of the Hideout, where you worked as a bartender, that you’d had your friend Eddie fix up as a favor.
You’d tossed him his keys as the sun set, burnt orange and red across the summer sky, and he’d asked, “How much?”
And suddenly you’d spent the week welcoming him around Hawkins, as well as the intricacies of your susceptible heart. Had preened and praised him while he perused his options in the next town over on his problematic apps.
The same apps you’re now frowning at, watching the population around you continue to dwindle with every pass of your thumb.
“You know, they say insanity is—”
“Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
You shoot a glare Eddie’s way, watching his dexterous fingers pull his hair back into a makeshift bun at the back of his head. Those same fingers reach down to grab your glass, chipped black nail polish capturing your attention as he draws your drink up to his lips and takes a long sip.
“Tequila. Travis really fucked up.” He chuckles. The movement has his cropped shirt billowing around his hips, tattoos on his sides visible where the holes his arms extend through as he settles down beside you. “You know, I think you need to ditch the apps. I did, and I’m much better for it.”
“You got a puppy a few weeks ago,” you point out, finger jabbing him in the ribs. He hisses, cupping his pec. “Getting a puppy is code for throwing in the towel.”
“Ozz is the cutest puppy, I’ll have you know. Look—” He waves to Gareth as he passes by, drumsticks twirling in his hands. “Delete the apps. Take a break. Isn’t there some quote about happiness? That Nathaniel Hawthorne one. You know, the ‘happiness is a butterfly’ one you used in a paper back in school.”
“One, I can’t believe you remember that.”
Your nose wrinkles at the thought of your teenage years. Of you with braces and he himself being the first person to welcome you to sit with him on your first day of school, snapping at Jason Carver when he’d brushed by you and thumped your shoulder a little too hard for his liking.
“And two, the quote is actually ‘happiness is like a butterfly, which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp. But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.’”
“So stop chasing it. Just let it happen. C'est la vie. Carpe diem. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?”
You don’t even bother letting him know none of those things mean what he thinks they do.
“Eddie.”
He loops his arm around your neck. Presses a kiss against your temple. You lean into his embrace, comfortable warmth that seeps into your bones and floods you with familiarity.
He’s hard lines against your softer edges. Inky tapestries of collected memories that tell a tale of his adventurous life on the forearm tangled in your hair. His ring-clad fingers delight in toying with the tips, hair shifting between digits like water.
Calming and soothing Eddie. A constant in your life since you were teenagers, now going on ten years of friendship later. Someone you’ve always been able to turn to at the end of the day; someone who never once questions your motives, even if he might suggest you try different methods to your lifestyle habits.
And now, your dating habits.
“I’m just saying it’s worth a try.”
-
Maybe you don’t stop right away. Maybe it takes a date with Joe, Jim and Jessica to realize the truth of Eddie’s words. Maybe there’s some weight to pushing it all aside, stepping out of the way of your own preconceived timeline, and allowing someone to walk in at the right place and time.
And on a night such as this, where Corroded Coffin are getting set up on stage and citizens are packing out the bar to see the increasingly popular band play, it’s easy to remember why swiping on your phone has brought you here. To asshole Andy Lerman standing before you while you work. Basketball coach at Hawkins High and douchebag royalty from what you remember of him back in your years of teenage angst and adolescence.
He’s had a few drinks now. You know because you’ve served him. But all they’ve done is instill courage in him to step over to the girl who people teased in school for being a “freak fucker” by merely being associated with Eddie, claiming time ‘really did wonders for you.’
He’s staring at your tits when he says it, and it takes everything in you to not toss his next drink in his face. But in a town where money is hard to come by, and there’s not much to do by way of work, bartending pays the bills, and you’re not about to mess up one of the few good gigs left.
“Andy, it’s really not going to work,” you tell him, “but here. Your last one of the night…on me.”
With a quick pat to his shoulder, you send him on his merry way with a fuller pocket and a story to warp when regaling his friends with the time he pity-invited the “freak fucker” on a date.
“Don’t look now, my lady, but Eddie Munson is staring at you,” Argyle says, working on mixing a margarita beside you for a patron.
“He’s not staring at me,” you retort, sliding a vodka soda across the bar, thanking your customer for the hefty tip they toss your way. At Argyle’s raised brow, you reiterate, “he’s not.”
“He’s always staring. That’s the look Eden gives me. You know, the look of someone in l—”
Argyle’s words are cut short as Eddie appears on the other side of the bar, bare elbows pressing against the counter, hair falling out of his ponytail, bangs long overdue for a cut shifting every time he blinks.
“Are you okay?” He asks, thanking Argyle as he passes him the beer he knows he prefers. At your arching brow, he continues, “I saw Andy Lerman flirting with you. You looked uncomfortable.”
You snort, getting to work on a moscow mule. “That’s because I was uncomfortable. But I took care of it. I appreciate you always looking out, though.”
He reaches over and grabs your chin. Gives your head a little wiggle until you’re grinning against his palm. Then reaches his fingers over toward you, rests them so gently against your curled palm resting on the bar and pauses. He waits a moment and closes his ringed fingers into a fist, knocking his knuckles against yours.
Then he’s off toward the stage to get ready, leaving you with a knot in your throat and warmth prickling against your skin.
Argyle passes you a knowing smile and before you can yell at him to get back to work, embarrassment roiling in your chest, he announces he’s going to take a quick break and call his wife.
His words spin in your head once more. Comparing Eddie’s gazes to Eden’s. To the nature of the depth in which he cares for you. But you shake your head free of it.
You’ve been unlucky in love.
It couldn’t be so simple.
-
Argyle’s words don’t change much in regards to your Eddie conundrum.
They’re a phantom in the back of your mind. Wispy tendrils of a memory that feels distant now.
Weeks pass, and the warm heat of summer in Hawkins turns to a sweltering hell on earth.
The Hideout becomes quieter most evenings. Those with air conditioning prefer to stay home, remain by their pools, to host gatherings where alcohol and coolers are plentiful.
And you don’t blame them, letting out a long huff as you wipe down the counter, while Argyle counts your tips.
“Oh, how was that date with…Paul, was it?” He muses thoughtfully, beginning to split the money.
“Not great.”
“You said that about the last three. What was wrong with this one?”
And that’s the thing. You sit across from these people, trying to force a square into a circle, trying to sparse out the qualities that they’re lacking.
Not funny enough. Not the right hair color. They lack that unruly smile. That glimmer of brightness in their amber eyes. There’s no dimple in Paul’s cheek. No banter on your date with Jeremiah. Caleb doesn’t like metal, and Kayla thinks D&D is a breeding ground for satanism (you’d thought that one was left in the 80s, but it appears not).
“He said Dio was overrated.”
“Interesting,” Argyle laughs, shaking his head.
You whirl around, damp bar towel flicking water his way. “What’s so interesting?”
“Just funny when two people are so obviously similar and don’t even see it,” he says, humming to himself, conversation over.
And that was that.
-
It’s funny, you think, that it only hits you then.
Like the flutter of butterfly wings on your flowerbeds you’d managed to stumble upon earlier that morning, the flicker of wings on a bird in the sky. The soft beating of both, like the constant thump of a heart in a chest.
A constant.
It’s the word everything hitches on as you sit on that work table in your garage, watching the man who stopped everything he was doing when you’d called earlier at the drop of a hat. All just to make sure you were okay.
That same person who is now up to his elbows in grease, fingers stained an oily black. With his hair pulled away from his face, you catch the determined line of his mouth, the jut of his tongue pushing lightly against pink lips. The corded lines of his arms move as he works, barest hint of stomach on display when he reaches up to slam the hood of your car down once it’s finished.
You toss him a towel, grinning at the shadowy form of him blocking the sun from your eyes. “Sorry you’re doing this instead of the movies.”
“Stop that. You know I’m happy to spend any time with you, sweetheart,” he laughs, wiping the planes of his face that are streaked like the fingers pressing against terry cloth to keep it in place. “Fixed the alternator and did an oil change. Seeing as you always forget anyway.”
He walks over slowly, grunting when your sandaled foot kicks him playfully in the kneecap. “That was why my car made that awful sound and shut off?”
“Exactly.” He curls the towel around his neck. “Day is still young. How about we—”
“Why’d you delete all your dating apps?”
The words fall from you in a rush. A swift exhale that has Eddie’s back drawn ramrod straight. Rigid, but not with anger. Instead, you watch that full mouth part just slightly. Like the words he had been about to say were lost to the wind, left to titter away into nothingness.
He swallows audibly, palm sliding over the towel across his neck. “I…just didn’t see the point in them.”
Determination hardens your resolve. Brings to attention Argyle’s teasing these weeks. The wondering, questioning, burgeoning curiosities brimming. So you utter a simple, “Why?” and try your damndest to ignore the nerves welling up in your chest at the fear of what comes next.
“Just kind of felt like I was using them to get over someone else,” he admits, taking a step closer.
Your bare knees brush the tops of his thighs. Warmth seeps into your skin, bristles at his touch.
Dark eyes drag along your form. Along the dress you wore that evening, covered in flowers, a thin thing that would have fluttered in the wind if you and Eddie had been able to do what you’d planned for the day. Simple drive to the lake to eat some lunch, share a joint and fish (a new hobby he'd picked up from his uncle), then movies at the theater when the sun had set.
You meet his stare. Remind yourself of those eyes that had been on you the whole time Andy had leaned over the bar just weeks ago. Ready at any moment to come to your aid, should you have needed it. He’s never pushed you, never crossed the boundaries of your friendship, trusted you knew best.
But he’d always been there if you ever needed a hand.
You only ever needed to reach out.
Always.
You swallow thickly. “Who?”
“Don’t make me tell you what you already know.”
It’s quiet. A plea for pity that has your heart clenching within your chest.
But it’s not scary.
It’s not frightening at all.
Dozens of memories flash behind your eyes.
Of teenage years, laughing in the cafeteria, trading snacks, sneaking off to the woods between classes to smoke. Of you in community college, and his van screeching through the parking lot to take you to lunch between classes. Of nights at his place, your place, the movies, around town. Of ice cream at Lover’s Lake with his van doors swung wide, trying to make out the shapes of the clouds in the sky.
Birthday parties, milestones, weddings, grieved losses.
To highs and lows and everything in between. To all those shitty dates, to his own failed dating escapades. To that time you had to ice his lip in the back of the Hideout when Jeff had accidentally elbowed him in the face, or when you’d fallen off Max’s skateboard and ripped open your shin and he’d had to hold your hand while he disinfected it.
To this very moment, where he’s just finished fixing your car. To him with his dirty palm tapping lightly against your kneecap, feet shifting awkwardly beneath him.
Your head tips up and you catch the downturn of his lips, frozen in time by your prolonged silence.
Argyle was right.
“What?”
You hadn’t realized you spoke out loud, but confusion swirls behind Eddie’s gaze all the same, mollified only when your hand snakes up around the back of his neck and drags him downward to your level. Only when you pour your affection into him where you’re finally, lovingly, connected at last.
The fullness of his mouth against the softness of yours is hesitant at first, like his brain needs a moment to catch up to his current reality, before he’s tipping your head up with his hand. Until his fingers slide across your cheek, cupping you gently, easing you closer to him.
Before long he’s gripping you closer. Deft fingers in the dough of your thighs, tugging you flush against him, skirt indecently high up on your hips. But you don’t care. Not as your ankles lock around his waist, nor as he hums into your throat while he leaves a sloven path along your skin, learning the sounds you make when he’s tender, sweet—when he scores his teeth against your pulse point and you melt like putty beneath his devotion filled fingertips.
Ten years. Ten years of watching that silly butterfly float away into the sky, only for it to have been there all along.
Only for it to have been the man with his forehead against yours, noses flush together, your fingers beneath his shirt and his around the bend of your kneecaps.
You’re not sure where you start and he ends, but even that incites a new thrill, a new world to explore further. A desire to know the depths of him beyond the limit of friendship.
“Argyle got to you too, huh?” At your nod, Eddie barks out a laugh. Kisses you softly. “Fuckin’ guy thinks he’s Cupid or something.”
“I don’t want to talk about Argyle right now.”
Eddie’s lips curl into a grin. The whites of his teeth flash in your gaze, your fingers trailing along his stubble-lined jaw.
“I don’t either.” His thumb comes to swipe at your cheek, dimple in his cheek twitching slightly. “Got you a little greasy. Just…ten years, you know? Got a little carried away.”
You nod, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. He watches as you hop down from the work table, brow arching curiously as you tug him toward the door leading into your home. “Well, like you said, we’ve got ten years to catch up on. So before I kiss you more, Edward Munson, we’re going to shower.”
“We?” He swallows, voice hoarse. “Like a two people conserving water shower?”
You enter the small laundry room, humming as his chest brushes your own, his weight just enough against yours to press you into the lip of your drying machine. Cool metal chills your skin at the open back of your dress, balanced by the heat of the knee that slides between your thighs to pin you in place. Your body both buzzes with life and oozes honey into your system as you melt into him, pliant under that smoldering dark gaze of your best friend in front of you.
“We,” you nod, grinning into his kiss. “After that we’re cuddling on the couch and ordering a pizza.”
“And tomorrow…I’m taking you on a date.”
-
🦋
#lunaloveseddie#eddie munson#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic
358 notes
·
View notes
Text
Clockwork's Odyssey
After far too long, it is my utmost pleasure to bring to you the fanfic I have been working on all summer for Invisobang 2023: "Clockwork's Odyssey!"
Synopsis: Several weeks after the events of “The Ultimate Enemy,” Danny begins to starve from a ghostly hunger that seems impossible to sate. To his surprise, Clockwork appears with a proposition: join him on an adventure into the Ghost Zone, which will provide the nourishment he needs. Danny accepts despite his better judgment, but as they descend into places where time and reality seem blurred — and where Clockwork’s secrets come to light — he begins to wonder what kind of nightmare he got himself into.
Read on AO3
If you like Lost Time, then this is the fic for you. ;)
This year, I was partnered with the absolutely incredible artist @andre93a, who created an astonishing cover image for my fanfic. Thank you so very much! It was unreal to be paired with someone of your skill!
I also received so much help from the wonderful @underforeversgrace, who beta read the fic and listened to me scream about far too many things. Thanks for helping me keep my sanity while somehow also keeping yours.
And a huge thanks to @bibliophilea, @kinglazrus and @strawberrycamel for making Invisobang 2023 a thing and keeping it running! It was such a blast to be part of it, and I'm so, so thankful for all the friendships I made along the way!
I'll be posting deleted scenes and author commentary on my blog in the time between chapters, so make sure to check me out over at @astatia-ghast.
And with all that said -- how 'bout an excerpt?
------
He's so hungry.
He's so hungry, and Amity Park is crumbling.
A gargantuan creak and smash rip the air as the last remnant of the FentonWorks logo crashes to the ground. It lands a few feet to Danny's left, casting great reverberations through the pavement, but he pays it no mind. He can't, really; oh, how dearly he would love to pay it mind, but there is only one sensation taking command of his mind at the moment.
Sam is lying inert beneath him, framed by his hands and knees. She has been dead for a while, but Danny hasn't yet found it within himself to halt his cannibalization of her soul.
His wicked fangs hover hardly an inch from her flesh as he draws in deep breaths, struggling in vain to extract the last remnants of her fear and sorrow. He should have stopped drinking long ago, when her spirit had grown dull and her body weak, but just as it had with every other soul in this forsaken city, his hunger could not be sated.
The last drops of the horror she had died with vanish into his maw and seep into his core like water into dry earth. It is done. She has been drained.
And he is still hungry.
------
Continue reading on AO3
Thank you so much for your support! This project has been, well, an odyssey!
#Danny Phantom#Invisobang 2023#Clockwork’s Odyssey#fanfiction#phanphiction#Lost Time#Danny Fenton#Clockwork#Somnia#Ghost Zone#ghost hunger#empathic ghost hunger#ghost speak#Astatia Writing
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let's Talk Whump No.5
Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community! ! I’m Malice and I’ll be your host.
Today I’m talking whump with the wonderful @painsandconfusion!
So good to have you here today, @painsandconfusion! Tell us a fun fact about yourself!
I'm a lawyer but don't seem like a lawyer at all - everyon'es always confused when I say so. I'm a fan of jumping between fluffy pink dresses, standard hipster vibes, emo styles, and who knows what else. It's different every day. I just like variety!
What does whump mean to you?
Oh dear, tricky to answer...
Whump is when a character is at their highest stress point (or...at least higher than average). I suffer from severe and vivid nightmares, but I found out that when I write whump, I can process my fears and anxieties through those characters and their experiences. I can only go about two weeks without writing before the nightmares start again. It's kinda amazing to see just how effective and healthy it is for me. I live vicariously through my whumpees for a moment, and they help my brain keep its shit together. Then I get to meet all these lovely people online and it just makes my heart so happy!
Wow, that’s really great to hear! Whump can be really cathartic at times. How did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?
I think this is a standard story, but I discovered the hero x villain community first, and it wasn't /quite/ my cup of tea, but it was close. After I saw a few people reblogging things with #whump, I checked it out.
I have a vivid memory of skipping class for the first time in my life, just sitting in my apartment, all but crying as I scrolled through everything. I was so relieved to find that I wasn't alone. I spent so much of my life hating myself and hating whumperflies and hating that I was drawn to violence and not understanding why. After I found this community I felt so much more at home.
I made a blog and started reblogging.
Then of course, I relapsed into hating myself and deleted it.
Then I made another. Started posting gifs I made from my favorite whumpy movies.
The kink community kinda took it over - which is fine and lovely and I'm happy to share content, but....they were the only ones who saw my blog. So everything I made was taken in a way I didn't mean and I felt very isolated and unheard.
So I deleted it again.
A couple years ago, I tried again. I started just reblogging, then I impulsively added to a prompt list in one of my reblogs and people really liked it? So I made more. And more and more and more- eventually I started posting scenes, and I've been having a lovely time here ever since!
Do you think your view on whump has changed since you joined? Are there tropes you now love/hate that you didn't at first?
Absolutely. Like. Wow so much. I used to dislike pain a lot and only enjoy the fear leading up to it. While I still prefer the suspense, nothing really squicks me out anymore. I used to hate pet whump but now I'm a fan.
I have started making whump art as of late, which has been a fun new adventure! I picked it up almost solely because there's so many fantastic writers in this community who deserve some good fanart. I'm having fun working through a list of my favorite creators!
Tell us about your favourite whump trope!
Dear goodness, do I love a chin tilt.
No no...hmmm.....I get to run wild with this question and there's nothing you can do to stop me! Muahhahahhaaaaaaaa~
Okay so. Picture this.
Whumpee stumbling slowly backward, breath catching in their throat and burning at their lungs. Their feet drag against the ground as they stare up at Whumper, eyes shaking and sparkling with tears that cling to their lashes, refusing to fall. Not /quite/ yet.
Whumper strokes a knuckle down their cheek, drawing a twitch - not quite a flinch, no no, Whumpee wouldn't dare to pull away. Whumper's hand flips softly as it reaches their jaw, pressing to their throat instead.
Whumpee finally lets a sound pass their lips, a soft whimper as their back hits the wall. The momentum topples the wetness from their lashes, and Whumper's eyes roam down to follow them as they soak hot into the fabric of Whumpee's shirt.
Whumper's hand turns up just /once/ more, curling a finger under Whumpee's chin to tip their head up, drawing hiding eyes back into place.
Then they say something whumpy, I guess - you get the picture.
LOVE that shit.
Intimate whumpers? Slow pacing? Vivid sensation? Yes!
Absolutely loving the detail in that! It’s all about the sensations! And speaking of favourites, do you want to share a piece you've written?
Hard Question!
First one that comes to mind is The Party. It's one of my favorites because my hands were shaking so hard while writing it. It was a great way to kick off that event (@thewhumperssoiree) which I'm inadvertently yet shamelessly plugging by answering with that piece I guess! It's very very fun, I loved what that piece created. Everyone who wrote for it did such a great job! (Event is still open, I don’t know why I'm talking about it in past tense)
Do you have a standard writing style/routine or does it vary?
I absolutely change up my paragraph style depending on the intensity of the scene or the place in the scene. I'm a big fan of elaborating and writing moment to moment so the oc's sensations and emotions bleed into the reader. I don't write much on visuals at all - almost entirely on sensation, which I think works well in this medium.
When I'm writing, I kinda forget everything else exists, so I don't have food or drink or if I do, it's neglected. If anyone tries to talk to me, tough luck to them, I'm in the Write Zone and I cannot hear them!
I write solely when inspiration strikes which.......is a lot!
Is there a noticeable difference in how easily you write things? Do the words always flow or do you have to beat them out sometimes?
There's characters who don't get in my head nearly as easily, and ones that are effortless. Getting fucking Alec in my head? Impossible. He's a bitch, then does bitch things once there. Ethan? Dream. Miracle boy. So easy to write that emo little shit. For clarification, the seven chapters of Alec's series vs the thirty of Ethan's. Alec is a bitch. End of story.
But, I also do much better describing little moments rather than full scenes. I'm good at scenes, but it takes so many spoons. Hence why I have three hundred or so random drabble posts or lists, but only like fifty total from my series. It just takes more effort to have to think about plot and pacing and all that good stuff.
Fun? Yes.
But hard.
Is there anything you're working on at the moment? Finalising the final chapter of your series? Starting a new au? Trying a different style of writing/pov? Revisiting fanfiction? Maybe you've really gotten into poetry....
Oh dear goodness, I'm working on everything all at once and I need to stop!
I also need to roleplay less and write more for you lovelies! I’m so sorry I’m just really distractible…
Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom!
I have posts for this but:
1. Keep your descriptions to the textured senses. Less visuals, more sensation. Caretaker has brown hair? So what? Tell me about how Caretaker's hair curled at the ends, just barely tickling at the corner of their eyes until they flicked it away with a twitchy shake of the head.
2. Personify the shit out of your nouns. Whumpee bled? No. The blood soaked through Whumpee's shirt. Make it an external factor that's affecting them. Much more engaging.
3. Pacing. Whumpee got dragged into the car, then into a house and chained in the basement? That's not one scene, that's at least three. OR. It's a two sentence summary that Whumpee is musing about while already in the basement.
4. Speaking of, don't start with the boring, just get right into the action. You can weave the 'how we got here' bits in after a few sentences, but get your reader hooked right away. Don't start with "Whumpee got out of bed, glancing at their blaring alarm". Try instead "Their hands were shaking so hard they had to try three times to dial the number, fingers as clumsy as they were that morning, trying to slap their alarm off through the fog of blissful sleep." Or just don't mention it at all! Skip to the good stuff!
Lastly, let’s hype up some of your favourite blogs! Any friends, writers or just really cool people you want to shout out?
@whumblr was like my idol before I started! It's so cool just casually knowing her now? Still not over that, to be honest.
I always tag her but @distinctlywhumpthingmpthing is so good? Seriously, you want to see some god-tier writing, go over there. (minors read tws well please, its not all for you.)
@brutal-nemesisemesis is always a delight. Castys gives me life.
And of course, I'm gonna give a shoutout to @wormwritinging, my beloved. We met here and as much as I adore this community, they're hands down the best part of it.
Anything you'd like to add?
I can't think of anything but thank you for doing this. This blog is so cool!
It’s been a honor to have you here, @painsandconfusion!
And to all you folks at home, have a whump-derful day!
60 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is the situation still ongoing
The Basic Response
The response below the cut is longer; I don't want my other followers to have to read through it when they aren't involved and don't need to be. Regardless, I'd like to mention that I don't condone any anon hate, harassment, bullying, etc. from anyone (especially considering everyone involved is an adult and should've moved on from this incident a while ago).
As far as I'm aware, no one has been sending any anon hate to the victim at the moment, so I'm thankful that portion has stopped. However, they're still posting about her on Tumblr and Wattpad, despite her remaining silent about the situation.
(Additionally, my previous posts about the situation are here and here, so no one has to try to track it down to get all the information.)
Below the Cut
TW: Mentions of gaslighting, bullying, cyberstalking, harassment, and other covert manipulation tactics; mild mentions of cancer, dementia, & drugs (particularly meth)
There are a few points I have to address that go hand-in-hand, so I apologize if it seems "off-topic" for the initial question. I haven't included screenshots in this response because I'm currently working on putting together a post where I can showcase all of the evidence in one place rather than multiple Tumblr posts.
Main Points Addressed (More In-Depth Below)
Shortened version of what caused all of this
A few explanations/textual examples of President + group's gaslighting
Research that humans who think alike change their speech (because some of their claims are that all the blogs they think are the victim "type the same way" and "use the same insults")
Additional Points Addressed (More In-Depth Below)
They're trying to claim that they have "600 screenshots" of the victim bullying them, but their evidence is questionable at best because of the supposed "amount of evidence" (which they haven't actually proven; additionally, their other posts wouldn't have been lacking in evidence if that was the case) and considering they've already been caught cropping screenshots and leaving information out to make themselves look innocent.
President also deleted 6 years of messages on her Wattpad pretty suddenly after I told her to show the full conversations.
Addressing an anon I received from one of them stating I was "unapproachable", "invalidated the victims", and that the screenshots (the ones President + group included in their posts) were "cropped for privacy". Firstly, there is no privacy involved and secondly, I haven't invalidated anyone (see below for more info on both points).
If you're not sure what started all of this, here's a shortened version of events:
This whole thing started on Wattpad; G0dofstories reached out to President Loki and their interactions came across as snarky, but G0dofstories didn’t swear, call names, etc. The victim (G0dofstories) apologized within hours, but other people were being rude to President and G0dofstories asked them all to remove their comments as promised (note that G0dofstories wasn't aware that they were bothering President and that G0dofstories isn't responsible for other people's actions, but she still did the right thing and asked them to take down the comments).
President and her followers/group never stopped (which again, we can see this clearly in the present, as they're continuing to post about G0dofstories, despite the victim being silent), then someone contacted G0dofstories about a week after the incident and showed her the books that President + group had posted about her (and there are screenshots of President admitting to having burn books on the victim up to 5 months after the incident, although the books have since been removed from Wattpad, potentially due to a glitch according to President's post - so she still never removed them herself).
President had continued to post about her, while none of G0dofstories' friends/followers/etc. had said a word. President keeps saying it's “all over an unfollow”, but it actually started due to a misunderstanding (because text never translates well) and some pettiness/bitterness on President's behalf. President is the one that keeps it going constantly (which I also witnessed on Tumblr prior to interacting with G0dofstories).
The other ridiculous claim that President is making now is that she supposedly has "600 screenshots" of the victim bullying them - if that's the case, why was their evidence so lacking in the other posts? Additionally, even if they did have a good portion, they have probably cropped them to fit their narrative, as that group has done in the past with me and other people (see my previous posts, linked at the top). Again, no solid evidence has been put forward to prove that the victim is behind the numerous blogs they claim they are; they're going off things like "they type the same way", "they use the same insults", "they both do AI art", etc. Note that there's actual research that indicates that humans adapt to speech patterns.
I'd also like to state that I did receive an anon from one of them about a week ago accusing me of "invalidating them" (President + group) and that the screenshots were "cropped for privacy"; that's not true in the slightest. I haven't invalidated anyone - the lack of evidence invalidates itself, and the ridiculous claims they used to try to state those blogs are all the same person ("they type the same", "they use the same insults", "they both do AI art", etc.). I've also already pointed out that they're welcome to show me the full evidence of them supposedly being bullied by the victim (I can almost guarantee it's a misunderstanding/miscommunication between both parties and that someone got upset instead of clarifying and trying to actually resolve the issue). Additionally, the screenshots they provided in their posts weren't "cropped for privacy" - they're all made from public posts, and the ones that are from private messages already show the person's username. Some of them were also tagged in the posts made by Fang and Laurianne. With that being said, there's no "privacy" involved. They also tried to state that I'm unapproachable; I'm usually polite to everyone I interact with until they've given me a good reason not to be (again, that's why I've been here for 12 years and never been a part of fandom discourse until this incident).
Literally all that group has to do is genuinely apologize, drop the subject (as in stop posting about the victim, stop harassing/bullying them, etc.), remove the posts with false information, and move on. Keep in mind the victim already apologized about three times for the misunderstanding; they also tried to take responsibility for the false claims that were thrown at them, thinking it would be easier to accept the blame to try to end the problem and move on.
The apology that President received from the victim is literally them expressing that they're sorry about the entire misunderstanding that took place and that they were dealing with cancer, which doesn't always leave them thinking clearly. And, if you know anything about cancer (I'm praying most of you don't, because it's really not a fun situation or topic), then you already know that part is true; it doesn't leave you in a good head space at times, especially if you're dealing with treatments (I've unfortunately had to experience this with a few family members, so I'm aware of the effects it can have on people).
Instead of accepting the apology and leaving the incident alone, President went on about being a nurse and said she knew about the medical condition (which, if you're a nurse, you're not supposed to try to tell people about their condition or dictate how it affects them when you don't know the full spectrum, don't have access to their medical history, etc. - additionally, she's supposedly a dementia nurse, not even one that specializes in cancer).
President seems to think the victim's initial apology wasn't genuine and was "gaslighting". By definition, that's not how gaslighting works:
One example of gaslighting is when Laurianne (LokiHiddleston & part of DailyLoki) tried to say she had no part in the "exposed" blogs when I have screenshots that clearly say otherwise (from both the "exposed" blogs themselves and President).
Another example of gaslighting is President denying that she's bullying the victim, even with the evidence we have (at one point, she even tried to insinuate that the victim is on meth, she's tried to belittle and minimize the damage that she's causing to the victim, and countless other incidents - all of which are in screenshots). She also tried to gaslight by saying that it's "only been 6 months" (I have the timestamps in the screenshots that prove it's been a year).
Additionally, 6 months is still too long to be bullying someone, and you just admitted that you were doing it - hello???
I'd also like to point out that President deleted 6 years of messages on Wattpad after I called her out to show the full conversations - why would you keep them for 6 years and then suddenly decide to get rid of them as soon as someone calls you out for hiding/cropping your conversations??
And yes, I'm aware they were getting rid of direct messages on Wattpad, but if you don't care about the conversations to begin with, most people tend to delete them within a closer timeframe, not 6 years later. This doesn't pair well with her gaslighting tendencies, as it only furthers the point that it seems like she's trying to hide her responses - and again, we already saw her trying to hide her replies when she first edited the post she made trying to smear my name, then later deleted it (I did update the link on my other post, so the original post that I responded to is visible again; if that disappears, I already have the screen recording/screenshots of the entire post).
Overall, the point is that the victim is still trying to end the incident; they're trying to move on with their life and they don't want anything to do with the other group. The only thing that the victim asked the group to do is apologize, stop talking about them, remove the posts with false information, and move on from the situation. We're making some progress, as the others have seemingly dropped the topic; as far as I can tell now, it's only President that's continuing to post about her at the moment (although I can't be certain what they're saying in their Discord server about the victim, as President already outed herself on that by trying to accuse me of searching through their server for gossip when I was there trying to find roleplay partners).
#personal#asks#anons#loki fandom#lokihiddleston#fang-venkas#virgil-dantes#president-loki-laufeyson#deviantredhead#signal boost#tw bullying#bullying#tw manipulation#manipulation#tw gaslighting#gaslighting#tw mental health#mental health#tw cancer#cancer#tw drugs#drugs#tw abuse#abuse#tw cyberstalking#cyberstalking#tw harassment#harassment#tw#tw dementia
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Animal death mention TW
It’s been less than two days since poor Daisy died, and I just need to get all my thoughts out. She was such a sweet little thing, when she was a tiny chick she was the friendliest of the bunch, and would just sit on my hand. She grew up to be docile enough that she ended up at the bottom of the pecking order, but I always made sure to make sure she got treats while the other chickens would try to hog them all. Now she’s gone, I just hope she didn’t suffer.
To be honest it really hurts to see the post I made with a picture of her, just like a week ago, still being reblogged, because it just reminds me I’ll never see her again. But there’s not much I can do to stop it, since deleting the post won’t get rid of it from other blogs. That happens with photos of some of my other birds who have passed away, it makes me so sad.
But the other birds still need me, and I’ve got to keep going for their sake. What I think happened was, a part of the fence was sagging and some of the stakes were loose. A few of the pullets jumped over the fence, I don’t know how long they were out by themselves. Then something came and snatched Daisy away. I ran out to find Cricket and Stella outside the fence. I looked all over to make sure Daisy hadn’t gotten away and hidden somewhere, but the trail of feathers stopped. I won’t be letting them out without supervision anymore, that’s for sure.
My parents and I are working on getting either a covered run or an electric fence - I’d prefer a covered run of some sort since clearly the pullets are able to clear the 4ft fence I have now, so they might be able to jump an electric fence too. I actually got a painting commission from my aunt, which should help pay for some of that. Also, I’m thinking of rehoming Jack’s flock once they’re done molting. I feel bad that they can’t go out and are stuck in their little run, but they don’t get along with any of the birds in Zeke’s flock. And they’re all afraid of me. But it’s a decision I’ll need to think on for a while, I’m not in a great mental state after all. But in the future, I only want to have one flock.
Also, I’ve been trying to communicate better with my parents in regards to my needs. My autism diagnosis puts a lot of stuff into perspective, and I feel a bit more comfortable asking for help and admitting I can’t do something alone. I think I need more help in my life, like help maintaining my house and keeping it clean, keeping up with chores and appointments and stuff, etc. I guess it’s just different now that I know why I struggle with these things. I applied for SSI/disability, but it’ll be a long time before that’s processed.
For the meantime, life goes on whether you want it to or not. The rest of the youngsters are quickly maturing, now it seems most of the rest of them will start laying soon. Someone laid an egg with a paper-thin shell today and it broke, it was probably due to the stress of seeing Daisy get taken. They still need looking after so I keep going on. I’m gonna start the painting - which is of chickens - that my aunt commissioned from me today, painting is a great way to get feelings out.
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
i’m already on my knees
I posted this a few weeks ago, but there was a glitch in tumblr’s system and it wasn’t showing up in the tag so I deleted it. Turns out none of my posts on this blog were showing up in the x male reader tag and the message tab on my blog was gone. It took a handful of emails to tumblr support and they said they fixed it. Hopefully this shows up in the tag, and if it does, I hope you enjoy.
He pushes you against the wall, his lips still pressed to yours. When he pulls off, you’re both breathing heavily. A second later, one of his fingers is pressing into your mouth where his tongue just was.
You let your head fall back into the wall with a soft thunk. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your throat and goes up into your mouth when the pad of his finger presses to the tip of your tongue.
“Let me hear you,” he whispers into your ear, and then your mouth is opening and his fingers are leaving.
You follow his request as his finger, wet with your spit, trails down your neck. Your noises of pleasure only grow when he presses his leg between your spread ones. The feel of his thigh against your cock creates the most amazing pressure that only has you rocking forward for more.
He keeps kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. The pressure against your cock becomes continuous waves that crash over you. They start in your stomach until they travel through your entire body, from the tips of your fucking teeth to the soles of your feet that threaten to give way. It gets to a certain point that you have to turn your head away from his lips and pant into the air.
“Could you come like this, baby boy?” He asks into your ear.
“I don’t know,” you moan out.
“I know you can, baby. Just take what you need,” he says.
You follow his command again, pressing further onto his thigh. You feel filthy. Your kiss swollen lips let out louder moans as you get closer to your climax, and all you can do is surrender to the feeling when it hits.
“Such a good boy,” you hear in front of you as you throw your head back and slam your eyes shut. Stars shoot off behind your eyelids as your hips stutter against his thigh as come in your pants.
As you start coming down from your orgasm, you slide down the wall onto the floor. When you open your eyes again, you look back up at him and are met with his disheveled appearance.
Eddie practically rips open his pants to get his cock out. His cock is directly right in your face as he jerks himself off. If you wanted to, you could wrap your lips around the head and taste the precome that’s gathered at the tip, but all you do is sit there.
Eddie throws his head back when he comes, just like you did, except instead of against a wall it’s into the air that makes his hair fall from his face. Most of his come lands on your face, but a few strands of it goes into your open mouth.
One of Eddie’s hands finds its way into your hair and tugs your head back, “taste good?” Eddie asks.
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
So Why Did I Ghost Everyone And Abandon This Blog? And Why Did the DSMP fall apart? And how are these two things related?
This is going to get long, but it's been eating away at me for years, so I think it's time to rip the bandage off.
So, in mid 2020, I [Dave] was introduced to a guy named Clay (who stated he was at least 21) by an at-the-time mutual friend. I didn't think much of him, but he managed to worm his way into my personal life and friend group.
Cut to late 2020, Clay manipulated my partner [K] into falling for him and coerced me into agreeing to polyamorously date him (also allowing the two of them to date). During this time, Clay was telling us that he was the minecraft youtuber, Dream, and provided us with screenshots (which were quickly deleted after we confirmed we saw them), and even seeing him log into the minecraft server we shared As Dream.
At the end of 2020, following the Dream Cheating Scandal, Mr. Beast bought out the Dream Name and actually replaced Clay (so this guy and the guy who face revealed are two different people) - after which he showed up to our home basically unannounced and moved in with us, without giving us any choice.
Notice that this is also around the time that the DSMP wound down and eventually fell apart, and all of Dream's friends mysteriously quit the SMP and started their own thing. Also notice that he did post a picture of himself sampling merchandise (I think it was a hoodie?) and think: This is NOT the same person who did a face reveal. It's clear that the bodies and hands are totally different.
Also note: The voices in his old videos versus his new videos are totally different. He was using an audio filter to pitch down his voice and "disguise" it.
Within a week of him forcefully moving in with us, Clay began raping me. Despite my having told him that I was asexual and not interested in sex (which he said was fine), he barged into my room naked after I had gotten out of the shower and DEMANDED we had sex, and proceeded to threaten me until I complied. The bedroom was on a second story and he blocked the door. I had no exit and no way to defend myself.
This is how I spend the next ~ 6 months of my life. Hostage in my own home, not allowed to leave without his permission.
He was with us for about 6 months, all of which was spent threatening us with legal action, doxxing, financial crippling, emotional and physical abuse, and assault. We lost thousands of dollars trying to house him while he freeloaded off of myself and my partner - we're both disabled and my partner is actually dying from kidney failure.
He held the promise of money, housing, and even a working kidney over both our heads. It also turns out that he had freshly turned 19, and he admitted that his brother had lied on all of his paperwork to get him his license early. So I have no idea how old he really was.
He isolated both K and myself from nearly all of our friends, tried to isolate us from family, and even went as far as to bring cocaine into our house, despite asking him many times not to bring any illegal drugs in. (We literally live in a city where weed is totally legal and he had no problem stealing our weed and alcohol, so what the fuck)
After several severe psychotic breaks, we finally managed to kick Clay out - but not after months of being severely traumatized, abused and gaslit daily.
Three years later, this shit still haunts me. I will never be the same. In truth, the person who originally inhabited this body [Dave] underwent such severe psychological trauma that he/we/I developed acute DID, underwent several splits, and the original person completely vanished. I'm actually writing this as a totally different person now [Derek]. He still sends my partner and I threatening texts, his parking tickets and violations in the mail, etc.
As recently as a few weeks ago (today is 4.5.23) he was sending K harassing texts.
TLDR: I got raped and abused by Dream Minecraft after he was bought out and replaced.
Please don't harass the current Dream over this, as he has nothing to do with what Clay did.
Shit he did:
Raped me and K
Financially abused us
Stole possesssions from us
Attempted to hoard animals in our home
Brought cocaine into the house
Threatened us with physical violence and assault
Threatened us with emotional abuse
Threatened us with legal action
Threatened us with Mr. Beast and his Youtube Connections
Tried to Bribe us with youtube connections
Gaslit us
Outed a closeted trans friend to his entire friend group
Beat K with a door
Chased teenagers and threatened them
Pretended to pull a gun on people multiple times
Reckless driving and endangerment
Stole food, items, money and alcohol
Promised to help financially support us, only to financially cripple us
Held the promise of money, medical support and housing over two severely disabled people
Refused to let people sleep if he was Upset
Purposefully triggered us in order to get a reaction out of us so he could turn around and yell "abuse"
PHYSICALLY Held K hostage several times
Tried to get us to both elope with him separately
I've also since connected with quite a few of his ex-romantic partners and friends. They confirm and corroborate the fact that he exhibited the exact same behaviors with them.
Maybe one day I'll compile all the discord chats and texts and shit into a google drive and post it for the world to see, but considering now I'm basically completely physically and mentally incapacitated - today is not that day.
Reblog this, don't reblog this. Blow this up, don't blow this up.
I don't fucking care anymore - I've paid my dues for this. I just want it off of my chest and off of my mind.
If you still have me on discord, feel free to ask about it.
Otherwise, people I haven't spoken to in over a year, I'll be removing you within the week.
Best Wishes to everyone except Clay,
Derek.
#dsmp#dream smp#dream#dream minecraft#mr. beast#mcyt#dreamwastaken#dreamminecraft#dreamsmp#minecraft youtuber#minecraft#youtube#youtuber
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
Maybe this is more a request than a question.... Well, I'm re-new here on Tumblr after I quit all my social media accounts a few years ago, but my current obsession (bg3) let me have another try again at least on Tumblr, after I deleted my first account of 2011 sooo many years ago.
I'm sad to see (after a few weeks and since I figured out how this works now) that the same shit as everywhere is going on here, especially it's sad that's about FICTIONAL Characters/Thoughts/Desires which should be a SAVE PLACE - for - EVERYONE - EVERYWHERE - ! Guys please, don't we already have enough shit going on in real life?
I don't know what happened exactly, I just can imagine (and these pictures a clearly). I really hope you'll find your way, but if running this account is helping you and you like to do, please don't stop because of some shit heads! 🙏
Most kind of these shitties are unexperienced or dissatisfied in life itself or with their current life style. (mean no harm to anyone, just what I've discovered dealing with collegues and what I thougth were friends in the last 12 years. )
I'm sorry you have to deal with it here.
I really, really enjoyed your work. ❤️
🙏🙏🙏 LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK 🙏🙏🙏
It should really be normalized to simply unfollow a blog/user or block them; there's no need to harbor hate. Life is short, and we all just want to engage with content we love or not engage with others at all.
A safe space doesn't mean others have to cater to your needs. It doesn't mean I'll write to Gale haters expressing my disappointment; it means I'll block them. Done. Everyone is free to create their own safe space.
But seriously, thank you. Reading all those comments and messages from people who reached out makes everything so much better. I didn't expect anyone to see it (I have no idea about the peak of Tumblr usage or other social media), or even react to it (no shame here; drama like that is better ignored). Yet, here I am, with so many question marks in my head. Slowly, it's sinking in that a handful of people really appreciate what I draw, the videos, or even just my dumb tags and comments under other posts. It's wild.
This blog started as my personal collection of other Gale content, and I am far from being "big" enough to expect hate or people coming to defend me.
So once again, thank you, and everyone else, I hope your week is as kind as your souls ♥
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay | Bucky Barnes
summary: The Winter Soldier program is back, and you’re on a mission to take it down. But things don’t always go as planned.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
warnings: fluff, fighting, hurt/comfort, mentions and depictions of blood and violence
word count: 2,280
a/n: sooo hi, this is my first fic! I had a dream about it and thought I’d write it down. I’d like to believe this is me and Buck in another universe. Enjoy, and let me know if you have any requests!
*a/n: hi all had to delete the blog and repost the entire thing because it glitched and wouldn't let me interact. lost all my engagement sadly 🥺
“How’s it going, guys?” You could hear Steve’s hushed voice through the comms.
You were on an op with Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Sam. Hydra has been operating underground for a few months now, and your team has been tracking their whereabouts and what they were doing.
When the information first came in, Bucky was devastated. They were trying to rebuild the Winter Soldier program. Zemo had executed all the Soldiers Bucky has trained as the former assassin; there weren’t supposed to be any more.
“I should’ve known they were going to try again!” His red rimmed eyes pleaded with you to understand the agony he was feeling. “I was supposed to be the last one.”
He spent an entire week in his room, barely eating, barely speaking, and your heart was breaking for him.
So right now, in the Hydra base you had found a couple of days ago, you were trying to complete your mission and get the hell out of there before it became too much for Bucky. Each of you had your specific role to ensure speed and efficiency. Steve and Natasha were paired up together trying to get the super soldiers out of their cryostasis chambers, Sam was blocking the entrance with not so friendly fire, and you and Bucky were retrieving all the information and data you could before you burn the place to the ground.
“Almost done, Stevie.” You said as you rushed to get everything onto the disk you had plugged into the computer. The screen emitted a low light, being the only thing that illuminated the dark room other than the hallway’s flickering fluorescents. Bucky was next to the door, eyes frantic and gun in hand, ready for anyone that might come your way.
“You okay, Buck?” Your worried glance wasn’t lost on him, but the last thing he wanted was for his fear to jeopardize the mission.
“Yeah… yeah.” He sighed as he scratched his neck.
The low beep behind you broke your gaze on him.
“Okay, that’s it, let’s get the hell out of here.”
He smiled softly at you, and put his hand to his comm.
“Cap, we’re done. Status?”
“On our way out, meet you back at the quinjet.” Steve’s tone instantly gave away that he wasn’t feeling well after whatever he saw in that other room.
“Okay.” You whispered as you went to pull the drive out.
Immediately, a dozen small screens lit up on the wall behind the computer, flashing with images and videos that made your stomach churn.
“None of them turned out like you, Soldat.”
You turned only to see Bucky’s hardened eyes. But you know him too well, and you could see the panic rumbling just beneath the surface, threatening to erupt at any given second.
“We always wondered why,” Zola’s mechanical voice echoed in the half empty room, “It did not matter though. The serum and programming have been perfected to overcome that thing you like to call morality.”
Bucky’s hands were shaking by now. You could tell he was restraining himself. You were almost out of there, just a few steps, a few minutes.
“It has come to my attention that you deprogrammed in the time we’ve been apart, Sergeant Barnes. How well did that work out.”
“You can’t control him anymore.” You called out angrily. How did he still have the guts to think he can intimidate Bucky?
“You can’t control me anymore.” Bucky whispered, repeating your sentiment.
There was an ominous pause before the voice spoke out again.
“Longing.”
Your neck strained with how fast your head turned to look at Bucky. His jaw clenched and unclenched; his hand fisted at his sides, the other gripping the gun tighter.
“Rusted.”
You had known Bucky long enough to know his trigger words.
“Seventeen.”
“It won’t work!” Bucky yelled.
“Daybreak.”
“I’m not him anymore!”
“Furnace.”
“Bucky,” your eyes were wide at this point.
“Nine.”
“You’ve already beaten this.” Your voice bellowed in the small room.
“Benign.”
He was shaking, sweat pooling on his forehead. His eyes were cast downwards, and you could see tears falling freely.
“Homecoming.”
“You need to get out of here.” His eyes held yours, his gun now discarded on the floor next to him.
“No, Buck, you’re okay!” You tried to reason with him.
“One.”
“No,” He whispered as he fell to his knees, “NO!” he yelled at the ceiling, mad at Hydra, mad at Zola, mad at himself.
“Bucky?” You called as you took a step forward.
“Get back!” His full body was shaking at this point, his eyes trained on the floor, “I said get out! Please!”
“Are you sure? Okay, I will.”
“Freight car.”
It was too late.
His eyes instantly flicked up to you, and you stopped dead in your tracks.
“Soldat?” Zola called out.
“Ready to comply.”
“No…” You gasped.
“Kill her, then await further instructions.” There was smugness in Zola’s voice, and you wanted to throw up.
“Bucky, you know me.” You tried as he got up on his feet.
No answer.
He just stared at you like he never even spent a minute with you before.
“We’re friends!”
He took a step forward, before looking down at his gun.
It all happened so quickly. He bent down to grab it, as you went for the gun in your holster. He was firing at you before you could even blink.
But you couldn’t shoot at him.
You hid behind the desk and closed your eyes.
“Buck, I don’t wanna do this!”
The bullets stopped, and you opened your eyes, “Bucky?” you breathed out.
Suddenly he was rounding the desk corner, his gun already aimed at you. You scrambled to get up and hide behind the other side, firing one warning shot at the ceiling.
You were suddenly lifted into the air, a strong black and gold metal hand wrapped around your neck from behind you, before being slammed back first onto the desk.
“Bucky, please!” You tried to choke out, but his eyes were emotionless. Dead.
You had to do something, to fight, or just lie back down and die. Bucky wouldn’t want that.
You lifted your knee and slammed it into his ribcage, successfully pulling him off you for a moment. Before he could hold you down again, you rolled to the side and off the desk, your gun aimed at him. You had to shoot him, you had to. He was gonna kill you. He was already aiming at you.
But your finger hesitated on the trigger. How could you shoot your Buck?
He started shooting again, and you shot at his gun. It fell scattering to the floor, and he stared at it for half a second before lunging at you. He grabbed you by the shoulders, throwing you like a ragdoll to slam against the wall. You tried to get up, but your arms were too weak.
“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes,” you wiped the blood from your now split lip, “You were born in 1917, your sister is called Rebecca. Your best friend is Steve Rogers, and he’s right outside. I’m your friend, and I don’t wanna hurt you.”
He stared at you, eyes blank. Then only for a second, something flashed in them.
But his gun was aimed at you again faster than whatever you saw in his eyes.
“Okay then, Bucky. Shoot me. Kill me. You’re my friend, and I know this isn’t your fault.” You said as you pressed your comms discretely.
“What? What’s going on?” Steve’s panicked voice could be heard, but you guessed it was only in your comm, not Bucky’s too.
“I know you’re trying to fight it,” his eyes looked pained behind the scope of his gun, “Please fight it, Buck.”
“Hold tight, we’re coming to you.” Steve said with resolve, and you were left with trying to distract the soldier for a while longer.
“Do you remember when you saved me on my first mission?” You wondered out loud.
He stayed silent, not shooting, but not lowering his gun.
“I was bleeding out, and man did you hate my guts,” you laughed lowly.
“But you saved me anyway, you took care of me till we got back to the compound, you stayed by my bed till I could actually stand on my feet.”
His chin trembled and there was pain in his eyes.
“You’re that Bucky, you’re not him anymore.”
His eyes widened as his gun fell to the floor, him falling to his knees along with it, his head in his hands. His breathing was labored, and he was almost sobbing. But as he looked up, he saw someone else there.
The Winter Soldier was in front of him, like a sick twisted physical manifestation of the monster that tortured him for dozens of years.
He stood tall and proud, staring at James that trembled weakly on the floor.
“You’re not real.” Bucky whispered.
“Of course, I am. I am you.” The soldier said lowly, blankly.
“Bucky…?” You were confused at this point. He just stopped fighting you altogether, and now he was talking to himself?
“No… I’m not you anymore.”
“What’s going on? Who are you talking to?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to scoot closer to him, but it was like he couldn’t even see you.
“You will always be me. I will always be part of you.” The soldier said confidently, flexing his silver metal arm.
Bucky sobbed helplessly into his hands, whispering ‘No’ over and over again.
“I’m going to take over now, and I’ll continue my kill count, starting with her.” He pointed a hand at you.
That was it.
He was instantly up on his feet, “NO! You leave her out of this.”
By now you had an idea of what was going on inside Bucky’s brain. “That’s it, Buck! Fight him!”
“Come on James, this is who you really are.” The soldier said with a head tilt, taunting Bucky even more.
“My name is James Bucky Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Soldier.”
To you it just looked like Bucky collapsing on the floor, holding his head, screaming.
But to him, it was so much more.
He was fighting the soldier, hand to hand. His style was more agitated and aggressive, while the soldier’s was fluid and smooth. Bucky grunted as he took a fist to the gut, but was quick up on his feet, kicking one into the soldier’s knees. The soldier’s legs buckled as he fell, but he ducked just as Bucky’s fist was coming into contact with his face.
No words were exchanged, just pure rage flowed like smoke through the air. The soldier was quick, but he wasn’t filled with the determination that Bucky had.
They danced around the room, in a beautiful choreography of desperation and wrath.
Bucky blocked the soldier’s blows, and administered some successful ones of his own. He could do this, he could overpower him, he thought. Bucky kicked him harshly in the chest, and when the soldier doubled over, he held him in a death grip lock.
But he is the Winter Soldier after all. He grabbed Bucky’s arm that was choking him up and flipped him over so he was on his back on the ground. Bucky grunted, and the soldier quickly straddled him to choke him out.
“I will always win, James.” His eyes were blank but focused.
“You’ve never won, Soldat,” Bucky spat through gritted teeth, “You lost everything, and you will always lose.”
In a split second, Bucky flipped them over, not hesitating to blow one punch after the other.
He screamed louder with each fist that came down on the soldier’s face.
And to you, he was still screaming, holding his head.
His eyes widened suddenly, and his back straightened with a sharp gasp, as if he was under water and had just come up for a breath of fresh air. You scooted quickly to him, just in time as he collapsed into your arms.
“Buck? Bucky? Is that you” You were panicked.
“I’m not turning into the Winter Soldier.” His eyes fluttered close, “I’m turning into a superhero.” He laughed breathlessly, like he couldn’t believe that someone like him could ever be a savior, a helper.
You couldn’t help but sigh with a smile, “You are a superhero, Buck. You’re an Avenger.”
You heard footsteps in the hallway as Steve and Nat came into view.
“Are you okay? Is he okay?” Steve was breathless, eyes flicking between the two of you.
You nodded and smiled, looking down at Bucky.
He was curled with you on the ground, his hands around your waist and his head on your chest as you sat catching your breaths.
He held onto you, like you were his only lifeline.
He looked up at you with the sweetest eyes and whispered,
“I’m okay. We’re okay,”
“She saved me.” His arms tightened around you as he nuzzled his face back into your chest, and you smiled even more.
“You saved yourself, Buck.”
That night, you went back to the compound, and you gave Bucky the offer to sleep in your room. He accepted it. As you slipped into bed, the both of you didn’t even think about keeping your distance from each other.
He was shaken up, and so were you. You never thought you would meet the Winter Soldier, but it must have been harder for Bucky to be him again, after thinking he was finally safe.
You held him through the night, shushing his soft gasps and wiping away tears that strayed from his eyes in his sleep.
He’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.
#bucky fanfic#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#winter soldier#the winter soldier#james bucky barnes#steve rogers#bucky x yn#fluff#bucky barnes fluff#oneshot#fic#sebastian stan#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fanfiction
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
MALAZAN BOOK OF THE FALLEN
A couple of weeks ago I finished The Crippled God, the tenth and final book in the Malazan Book of the Fallen by Steven Erikson. What a journey that series turned out to be!
I loved it. I’m not the biggest fan of military campaigns, and there is a lot of that in the books, but they were soooo good! I’m now looking forward to moving on with Ian C Esslemont’s Malazan Empire series, and all the other, shorter series in the world.
Instead of following a handful of characters, there are hundreds. Some show up in book after book, some only for a scene. Some of the characters I love are Tattersail, Fiddler, Whiskeyjack, Kalam, Quick Ben, Lostara Yil, the Paran siblings, Mael, Brys and Korlat to mention a few.
The series is often talked about as difficult, I did not find it so. It is very complex, and you probably have to accept the idea you’re not going to get and/or remember everything immediately. Of course, I have studied some literature at university, and have read a lot my whole life from many different genres, including classic books. Maybe that helps.
And there are so many great quotes! I’m giving one example that stuck with me. In the last book two people are talking and the first person asks a question:
“‘Will you all die in the name of love?’ The question seemed torn from something inside him.
‘If die we must, what better reason?’”
I’ve had an extremely stressful time at work, so I’ve not written anything in a long while, but I’m going to try to do better going forwards. Also, is there a way to recover a deleted post, I may have accidentally deleted a post from this blog.
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I don’t expect you to share this necessarily, just wanted an opportunity to tell you something anonymously. A few weeks ago I started seeing all of the criticism around how fan fic writers choose to support one another and what’s acceptable when it comes to similar stories. I couldn’t have imagined it had to do with the two Raider Joel fics. I had been reading both and to me they were night and day, but I guess I don’t have all the details. Anyway, I know that led to a lot of discourse and honestly maybe pressure for writers to support other writers in certain prescribed ways. I saw your post about wanting to do better in that area. I guess I just wanted you to know that… it isn’t that serious? I love seeing your reblogs but I hope you never feel pressured or threatened by the mighty fist that is the internet. Again I don’t have all the details but it breaks my heart that jrrmint felt they needed to delete their blog. IMO you are one of the most sincere writers I follow and I really hope you know how much your readers respect your work and effort, even *if* it were ever to be similar to someone else’s.
Hi Bestie!
Thank you for reaching out! I wanted to respond because I wanted to make sure if others are feeling or thinking this way, it answers things for them too :) (also, sorry, this ended up being long so I put it below the cut! No actual spoilers or anything!)
I don't know a ton of what happened there and how it all shook out, so I don't want to say anything about that side of it. I mostly just saw the discourse that resulted. That being said, I love Toxic's fics (and I LOVE her Raider!Joel to an unhealthy degree honestly) and I only had a chance to read one of JJ's fics (4th of July) but it was one of the highlights of my week when it was coming out. I had been looking forward to checking out her take on Raider!Joel when I had the chance because I loved her DBF!Joel so much! It seems like a sad and hurtful situation all around and I hope everyone is doing well as things settle.
When I wrote that post the other day, it wasn't because I felt pressure to do so. It was mostly because I still feel like I'm figuring out a lot of this fan fic author life? I was thinking about it and I realized that, a year ago right now, I'd read a grand total of one fan fic in my entire life. I tried getting into fic in my younger years (like almost 20 years ago now) when I was obsessed with HP and Star Wars. But the fics I was finding weren't doing it for me. I never finished one and, eventually, gave up on starting them altogether. As hungry as I was for more content with these characters, I just accepted that fics weren't for me and that was OK. Then I saw someone online talking about Manacled - the HP fic - so I decided to give it a shot and I loved it. But I stopped there, thinking this was a rarity and that I'd just be disappointed if I sought out other content. I didn't start actively reading and seeking out fics until the corner of TikTok I'm on started talking about Mando fics so I decided to read one that sounded like it was interesting (it's Stitches if you've never read it, it's incredible!) That made me see what could be done with fic, how you can explore broader themes through fic and I loved the reader insert aspect of it. So I started writing my own fics after that! But that was in March of this year. I've only really be doing this about 7 months! I feel very lucky that so many people wanted to read these stories but it caught me off guard in a way. I originally hadn't intended to put my fic out there at all. My one IRL fan fic friend talked me into sharing on AO3 when I was like 50k words into Beskar Doll. Then I got a Tumblr to better talk to people reading there and then I started sharing here, too, and started Lavender not really expecting any more than a handful of people to read any of it. A lot more than a handful of you read it, as it happens! But I feel like a bit of an interloper in this space, like I showed up here and magically got an audience I haven't really earned. I want to make sure I'm participating in this community in a way that builds people up and serves people, not just myself. Everyone here has been so kind and welcoming to me, I want to make sure I'm putting that back out there, too. I'm just still learning the best way to do that, so I appreciate everyone being patient with me as I find my way!
If my work IS similar to someone else's, I hope y'all would let me know! I think it's very easy to read something, love it, have that thought stick in some way and then forget that it wasn't your idea to begin with when it works its way into your writing (I definitely wouldn't knowingly copy someone else's work!!) If I did that, I'd want to make sure I credited the person who came up with the idea and make sure they were comfortable with that at the very least, rewrite or remove it otherwise.
All that being said, I'm so very thankful for everyone who is here with me on this little corner of the internet. I love that you're all so supportive, so kind, so thoughtful and I am honored that you choose to read what I write.
So thank you for reaching out and for your kind words and for checking in! It's very much appreciated <3
Love you!!
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm the anon that said about the fic for the ask game and yes it was! And yes that is like the best fanfic and everyone needs to read it. I don't care if you hate Minecraft people YOU NEED TO READ IT! I found it after you rebloged some art for it.
Yes we're making out right now. Also is this a good time to mention you also made me start shipping Clethdubs somewhat? It's not an OTP but it is still a favorite, I'm not sure but you may have made me start shipping Ethdubs too, which is my OTP.
Along with that your one of the first Hermit related fandom blogs I followed (I've only been in the fandom a few months, right around the Bdubs thing), made me want to start my own fandom blog (I did a week or so ago), and have made me want to watch Etho's season 7 (which I plan to get around to soon) and probably a few old series. There's probably other things I'm forgetting too.
WHATTTT..... i got you into DIA, ethubs, and clethubs ...... everything i've worked for on this blog is 100% worth it i can delete this blog in peace now thank u . we are shaking hands soooo hard anon. also yr SOOOOO right, i feel like do it again is one of those fics that can be enjoyed by anyone regardless of whether you know or care about the characters. it's just written so well and all the characters and the story are so interesting idk.... also i am so partial to fics that are kind of like analysis/character studies i guess its the meta enjoyer in me LMAO
also welcome to hermitblr/trafficblr ^_^ have fun with season 7 i guarantee you will love it & feel free to ramble about any stuff you watch in my inbox!! idk why but my favorite asks are the ones that are like i watched x series because of you and here are my thoughts. something so gratifying about all these series that i've loved for so long being enjoyed and appreciated by newer fans.... spreading the disease or something
#peter if u see this sorry for embarrassing u by gushing abt ur fic yet again but yeah. whatever#literally holding this ask so gently.... this is so awesome#i find it funny when people say im one of the first hermitcraft blogs they followed bc my posts are generally so specific LMAO#i am probably not a great introduction into this fandom... but whatever#appreciate it regardless#that being said if anyone has any fic recs for stuff that is SUPER character study heavy i would love to hear it#those r my favorites. doesnt even need to be one of my guys as long as its like. clear the author gets the character a lot#i love reading peoples thoughts through their writing. its the best#ask
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
Happy Blorbo Blursday!
Today I want to hear about the inspiration behind your OCs. How did they come to be? You can answer for as many or as few as you like!
~ @tabswrites
Thank you for the ask! 🖤 Many apologies for getting to it so late.
I am sure everyone is tired of hearing about mi hijo maldito by now, and he can either learn to share the limelight or give me prose, so I think I shall ramble about my older OCs instead.
This feels long to me and… personal? So I will toss it behind a cut. It seems the polite thing to do, but perhaps i am old-fashioned.
Firstly, the reason I picked up my pen at all on this side of Being An Adult: the glass cannon with many aliases of varying levels of creativity, Brynrinkeris — or Keris for short.
She was created first under a different name as an avatar on a hardcore roleplaying server in an MMORPG many years ago. I joined the server in a last-ditch effort to actually play and enjoy the game I was given - my then-partner and their guild out-leveled me on my poor frankencomputer very quickly and their FFXI play-styles were more intense, aggressive, and numbers-heavy than I prefer in my games. So I wandered among the storytellers to see what their world was like.
My therapist at the time made a wild suggestion on my second week “playing the same game but alone” - since I struggled with journaling for various reasons we won’t get into here, she was curious if that would also translate to imaginary journals. You know, a kind of running memoir for this character I’m playing with in a setting that’s so full of stories and choices. What if she were a real person? What would she think and feel about this broken world she’s moving in? What would she notice about the people around her, living their stories out in the open where anyone could see them, hear them? What would she - not me! - do if someone said Hi? What would she write about it later?
An interesting experiment.
For Science.
So naturally I did what anyone would do in the era of the early high-speed internet and I made a blog for an imaginary person in an imaginary world.
And then I handed off my gear to an alt and re-rolled her, thinking differently about the character choices this time. Not a cute swashbuckler because of pretty swords and tattoos, but a mage with elemental leanings (a preference which would get stronger as we went along together). I wanted to get to know the world of the game and the world the players had created within it, but I was so conscious of my outsider status, my fragile justification to be there, my ignorance of The Rules. I chose the female, dark-skinned elf avatar specifically because I was giving her a warrior backstory, the “good” city made my skin crawl in a way I couldn’t yet explain, elf because long ears pretty, and… well… I was already tired of crackerjacks back then. I built as opposite as the game and my own personality allowed. Then I took her memory away so that I the writer would not need to know anything we couldn’t learn from just playing the game.
I expected it to be a short and lonely experiment, running out the subscription clock and failing at yet another popular video game.
Ha.
Within a year she was the leader of a large neutral merc guild, had a very full friends list both in and out of character, and had forged alliances with several other guilds for regular raiding parties.
Frankencomputer The First died under the weight of the game files and chatlogs and the Shuttlebox was built to take its place. I didn’t realize how much writing with my friends had become part of - or perhaps the heart of - the game for me, until one night a stranger randomly tipped me money for a story we were telling in the tavern. I wrote a macro to scrape game command junk from the chatlogs and ran a few nights’ files through.
For Science.
Once I finished the scrape and manual deletion of stuff i couldn’t macro, I learned apparently Keris had taken us to a place where writing 30k words on an average weekend was normal. Without me ever noticing. Because you see - the journaling was still hard, but not as hard, and it hit in a different way. I thought I was struggling to manage three pages of fictional journal every week, but actually I was writing thousands of words of improv every night. No wonder my hands hurt. (Yes, my then-therapist laughed at me. I am not very smart.)
Anyway, I set aside some time in about… 2006? to answer the question of how much of this accidental mountain of story was beholden to the original game content that helped me find my voice again. Turned out that most of the direct references to the game could be swapped with a dozen other fantasy IPs with very little impact to the actual stories I and my closest collaborators were telling. While the game was very much high fantasy, high-stakes, binary heroes and villains… these stories were not. Even the proud leader of this mercenary company was a million shades of gray and far more concerned with the lives and happiness of her soldiers than the rise and fall of the citystates and factions they worked for.
I asked the (dangerous) what if question of what might become if I built a new world for these stories? A world that addressed issues I had with the source material and others like it? What elements would I need to keep and were they unique to that source or were they just… archetypes and tropes? What would happen if I freed my little cast from the confines of that borrowed world and dependence on other storytellers with time and spoons and a yearning for stories in compatible veins? Could I build something that big and sprawling and take any satisfaction in the result?
Thus, Dark Tapestry was born.
After Keris came all the people around her. Rokoval and Merezin, Fahlanin and Urg’Tak, Chryso and Serevhin and Airold and Cir and Pietor and Jaelle. Anyone and everyone Keris needed to interact with was (perhaps still is) in danger of Becoming Part Of The Cast the moment the narrative forced us to learn their Name and The Place And People They Come From.
Fahlanin il Rex the young and headstrong moonborn commoner is a great example of this: I really just needed someone to pole the gondola. Keris however, being an idiot(affectionate), tried to bribe the civil servant driving said gondola to drop her at a different location and pretend they’d never met. Fahl had opinions about this and within a few chapters she was pushing the plot around.
Davri came about because he had a stoneborn proverb to share in a council meeting where I was showing the Amicae guided by representatives from every culture in the then-known world. Keris made an offhand comment about relying on his advice and personal loyalty, so I pressed on that until she revealed why.
When I pressed her for where her little penchant for picking up oggish came from, given her otherwise fastidious behavior in personal connections, I discovered a delightfully bawdy and probably unprintable story in her distant past and the origin story for Hrrg’tk (moves-stone) The First Oggish Mage.
Not everyone in the stable descends from a tangle of what-if-and-why though.
A call for themed submissions from a small fantasy romance press led to me building Maleta, the protagonist and narrator of 9th Division. I actually worked up a proper character outline for her - mostly inspired by the submission requirements and research into the publisher’s range - a rough plot, and deliberately outlined with narrative roles instead of actual characters for the first pass. I went back into those bare bones with my worldbuilding notes open to flesh out the two Love Interests, the Surface Antagonist, the Red Herrings, the Unlikely Ally, the Mentor, the Expert, the Big Bad, the Victims, and so on. I chose a promising spot in the world timeline, a few Important Political Figures to mention in the city, and by the time I finished the manuscript I’d also brought in a couple of supporting characters from Keris’ stories (including a brief cameo by Keris herself).
And so you see some of OCs really are only inspired but such boring details as The Plot Requires A Farmer, where other OCs — especially in the fic I’ve written — are inspired by the equally boring but far more self-serving grounds of I want to read a story with a character like that.
Or both.
Prime example: Nialet. I needed a farmer very far from the center of power whom our favorite disaster king would trust with a delicate political situation, and based on what he values in the people close him, and a throwaway (ha) name and vague profile from another piece, voila. The longer I kept her around though, the more I liked her and wanted to know about her. I found i was interested in reading the kind if story that would center a narrative like hers, and thus Day Arising was begun. (Outline is done, and more prose than is posted, but life rather interrupted the fleshing-it-out-process. Hopefully I will get back to it soon…)
#ask the studiorat#blorbo blursday#studiorat rambles#writeblr#ficblr#writing asks#blorbo asks#dark tapestry
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Re: Your answer to OP about being overwhelmed with drafts and your tags to it. Sometimes we need to just need to hear that everything will be okay because it's so easy to forget <3
sometimes, when we look at everything going on in our personal lives and the world around us, it can be really, really easy to apply a similar level of stress and pressure to the things that are meant to keep us calm and relaxed. my mam got me one of those "picture a day" books where you colour in a picture each day until it's filled in, and i actually ended up crying with pure frustration when i couldn't do it for a week and i tried doing all eight pictures in the space of an hour!
(this got super long under the cut JIUASDFBFDAS but there's a huge essay on feelings and the dash belong the readmore! )
we have a tendency to believe that we're SUPPOSED to be keeping on top of everything. but think about it. we have lives behind the screen. some of us have family and friends, some of us have school or jobs to consider, and as i have said since about 2016, IT'S BEEN A REALLY ROUGH YEAR!! we're all exhausted! we're all burnt out! but as the pandemic has proven relentlessly, and we just seem determined not to listen to this, we are all unique in how we handle stress. during the early months, my brother became a total movie buff. loved all the classics, all the westerns, all the movies he could find. i enjoyed writing, but i actually preferred sudoku? no idea why or how, but i clung to sudoku and cookery for all those months. i know people who gardened, baked, painted, sculpted, started businesses, i know people who just rested and napped and relaxed for months on end, and you know what's really spectacular, nonnie? we are all still here, and back at the new normal we knew would come one day.
everything will be okay. i promise you. no matter how shitty you think it is, and god knows, we've all had days where we know it's been unfathomably awful, but it does get better. i quit my job three days ago after just two weeks of working there. i also handed in two weeks notice after two weeks at another job. it's all fine now! it sucks, but after a moment, you recover, and you move forward! i've completed two degrees, that's four years of essays, exams and deadlines, and people have constantly taken my absences and my silences as well as my activity. everything will be okay. there's nothing wrong with being upset and scared by the stuff we see on the news, or the stuff that happens in our lives, in our spaces. there's absolutely nothing wrong with you for having emotions that aren't tranquil and happy. toxic positivity belongs in the trash can. don't ever beat yourself up over the ways that those emotions manifest themselves! emotions are fickle and weird, that's always been a fact! i cried when i dropped a carton of garlic mayonnaise last week at work. no idea why, but it happened, and i'm cool with that, because it wasn't the garlic mayonnaise that upset me, it was just another thing on a really big pile of stuff, right? it's okay to cry and be upset and stressed by stuff.
but here's the thing.
it's okay to feel scared. and it's okay to be panicked. it doesn't matter what you're afraid of anymore. you're not being silly, i swear to god, you're not, i promise you. but at the end of the day, you are not alone. your friends and family are with you. you are loved and supported, and you might need to take off for a few months, and that's okay, because you're doing that to help yourself, and to be safe and to come back when you're able for the dash. there's nothing wrong with that. there's nothing wrong with hiatuses, or deleting your inbox, or archiving your blog fifty times in a year, or getting rid of all your starter calls and drafts. there's nothing wrong with any of that! you wanna know why?? because this is a feckin COMMUNITY!! and i will say that until my final breath, because god help us, lads, we all forget that, don't we? this is a COMMUNITY. we are a family, each and every single one of us. we might be in different fandoms, we might have different views and opinions, but the day that someone decides they won't support their friends through a brief hiatus or a spring clean or revamp of their blog, is the day that they no longer belong in that person's family. we all deserve people who love and support us throughout the changes and transformations we make. and the changes we make on a silly blog on tumblr are just the tiniest drops in the ocean.
delete your drafts. empty your inbox. take a hiatus. if that's what you want, or do whatever you like, and for the love of god, nonnie, friends, loved ones, please, never ever EVER feel a single shadow of guilt for looking after yourself. your family will be here for you when you return from your hiatus. and if someone decides not to be there, then that's okay, too. that's them, okay? that's not you. you do what you gotta do to be happy and healthy. and everything will be okay. but that doesn't mean we aren't entitled to feel stuff that isn't okay.
#ooc.#cinnanon roll.#idk what else to add here#i have been in the rpc for seven years now. almost eight.#i've seen a share of worrying trends.#but the longest lasting of these has to be the bizarre belief that we somehow are wrong to feel anything outside of endless happiness#you're a human being#we all have emotions#it's really troubling actually that we have a greater capacity for understanding and compassion#when it comes to the emotions of fictional characters#than we do for ourselves#'ah yeah i love that scene look how this character just exploded with all the emotions he suppressed for the last decade! good for him!'#yeah besties but also it's important that u also express your emotions#no matter how 'ugly' or 'bad' you may think they are#no such thing as a wrong feeling#you're entitled to these feelings and i hope you all know that.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just reblogged the only 4 posts I ever made regarding the situation with em1grate and m1llionaires. I didn't know their new blogs until about 8 hours ago. I legit thought they were gone and leaving me alone but it seems that isn't the case. For the last day or so they've been accusing me of stalking them, and talking shit about them when I haven't. You can scroll back on my blog. I have nothing to hide. It's the #the puppeteer // mun tag if you didn't know. And I've been informed that ever since that incident they've been watching my blog, vaguing about me every single day, and even sent screenshots. Now, keep in mind. I originally found out m1llionaires had me blocked bc they were interacting with a mutual. I was curious who they were so I clicked their name. Found I was blocked. I went ok and carried on with my life.
Flash forward a week later, I find out that m1llionaires was h0rrorwood, who got all butthurt cuz I said not to follow me if you don't like my faceclaims. And I never told her bf to block her. I wanted him to say something to her cuz she vagued about me right after I made my post about the fcs issue.
I was gonna leave it there but it kept going (you can scroll my posts from earlier today. They're every single screenshot I had about it.) So I blocked him too and moved on. Now I'll admit I was a bit petty. I posted lyrics to Slaughterhouse, and Massacre The New American Dream, as well as reblogged several pics of palaye supporting LGBT, including trans people. But I eventually stopped and moved on with my life.
Flash forward to a few days ago, and the whole thing with nevermoreunihq starts up. Now, I'm not racist or ableist. I'm gonna say this rn before anybody jumps to conclusions. I do not wish to change my characters or rp characters who do not share the struggles I do, out of respect for the people who do. I don't feel confident enough that I'll get it right and I don't wish to offend anybody. This stranger things blog, inactive from August, chimes in only reading half the post, calls me racist and ableist. Not willing to listen. (These screenshots are also below.) I go into their dms and try to clear the air like an adult. They still are unwilling to listen so I blocked them. Then saw they got an ask from an anon and wouldn't you know. It was the same people with the FC drama. My post about nevermoreunihq, and my response to their post was deleted from here but it still exists on that stranger things blog brokenmvses. Go ahead take a look. As well as the Anon.
After that happened I decide to take a break. It wasn't good for my mental health. I was already dealing with a lot at the time of this happening. Then I get a DM from m1llionaires. (Screenshot is also below from the last day)
I shrug it off, screenshotted it and blocked them. Then I find out just who m1llionaires is. And oh boy. I find out from my sources that m1llionaires had been accusing me of stalking them for the past week, despite me not knowing their URLS until earlier today, and I checked both blogs to see what I could see what had been said. Now at this point, I'd made the new blog and sent dms out to a bunch of people with the new url so we could continue to interact. I found out that someone had ratted out my new blog to my stalkers. They sent me Anon hate but I didn't respond to it. I merely blocked it, hid the blog completely, and changed the URL.
Now here's what's going through my head. One person must've said something or was actively looking for my new blog. If it was the latter, you got too much time on your hands and you're clearly obsessed. If it was the former, somebody ratted me out. Now I told one person I didn't fully trust. And get this, they're mutuals with m1llionaires. So of course my first thought was "seriously? After I defended you after you attempted suicide? I did nothing to you." So I block them on both blogs. Then I got screenshots of a portion of a callout from em1grate.
The only thing that's true here is that I told people not to follow me if they didn't like my fcs. I wasn't sent the full callout bc it's apparently very long and I can't view the account cuz it's password protected.
And at this point I'd had my pinned post up for a WHILE. Then I get sent this.
I was never attacking you. I was proving a point. You're just trying to incite hate towards me by playing the victim. IDC if the original post wasn't about me. You vagued about me after I blocked you and told people not to follow me if they don't like my fcs. It's in my rules now because it has to be said now that if you don't like somebody don't follow them.
You need a life. I got better things to worry about in my own life than to worry what goes on in yours. I never actively sought you out. I didn't post about you at all until today. I never looked for you. And now you've brought this on yourself.
Now, as a conclusion. These two are stalkers. They've been stalking my blog since they made their new ones and have been vaguing about me nonstop since when I nearly forgot about them. Consider this a callout, will you? This is how you do a true callout. I am sick of being pushed around by you when I did nothing to you. I'm sick of being bullied. If you see this post, report m1llionaires and em1grate.
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
r0ttingz
Untitled
j-wellz
J. Wellz
dead-insides-blog1
Dead InSides
thedianelis
Sin título
palevioletroses
you are loved!