#ack!

[spoiledskullz]

[shotmrmiller]

drunken filthy one night stand with ghost (his name forgotten in the haze of that reckless night) because work is hell and what better way to relieve some stress than to be impulsive with a guy you'll never see again except you do because you're friends with johnny and now you're avoiding eye contact, pretending you've never met him and hoping he does the same but unlucky for you, he's not letting it slide.

[capricornlevi]

"you've got an eyelash on your cheek."

the statement is delivered in a direct yet cheery tone as if you were expecting to hear it, even though the person saying it is a complete and utter stranger to you.

"excuse me?"

"you've got an eyelash on your cheek," the white-haired guy repeats with a beaming grin, tapping his finger against a spot on his own cheekbone that you figure mirrors the location of this alleged eyelash.

from the few but notable stories you've heard from the host of this party, your coworker-turned-nearly-friend shoko, you'd guess this is satoru gojo.

you brush your fingers against your cheek, hoping it won't smudge your carefully-applied Halloween makeup.

you were conflicted about attending this party in the first place, given that shoko has been working with you for all of three weeks. the bar you call a workplace is more of a 'we're all family' sort of establishment, so you felt your attendance was expected instead of anticipated.

you'd even been talked into putting on some pink and blue detailing on your face, tacking on a pair of dollar store wings over your black dress to go as a very low-effort butterfly.

still, as last-minute as your costume choice was, you hope you haven't destroyed the minimal makeup on your cheekbones.

"did i get it?" you ask, deciding to trust this assertive stranger's judgment.

you give him a once-over, still unsure how he even noticed an eyelash on your cheek from several feet away.

he's wearing all black -- dark jeans and a loose black button-up, sunglasses that he's wearing even though the only light sources in shoko's apartment are a few lamps and a disco ball in the corner. though, to be fair, he's mostly looking at you over them, his eyes almost fully visible over the rims.

"nope," he answers in a tone nothing short of perky.

a pause. you attempt again.

"now?"

"nope," he repeats, grin reaching his icy blue eyes. "want me to get it?"

you open your mouth to object, but find no reason to. he's a stranger, a bit over-confident, sure, but no reason to distrust him.

"please don't smudge my makeup," you answer by way of confirmation.

somehow his smile grows, and he closes the distance between you, reaching up a hand to graze his thumb across your cheek.

he lingers, the pad of his thumb trailing soft enough to not disturb any of the blue-pink streaks but you can still feel it, a trail of soft heat following the movement of his hand.

goosebumps prickle on the back of your neck and you step back, surprised at how close he'd gotten --

-- or was it you who had bridged the gap?

"so who are you supposed to be?" you blurt to fill the silence, "your ... costume."

as soon as the words leave your mouth, you're not even sure it is a costume. there's nothing particularly distinctive about it, except for the parts that are entirely him -- the hair, the eyes.

the personality.

he steps closer again, and you don't move back.

"not a costume, really," he grins. "last minute invite since i just got back into town."

"that's not very festive," you mumble, barely audible.

he hears you.

"you'll have to forgive me, 'because you still need to make a wish."

"hm?"

he holds out his thumb.

"eyelash, you gotta make a wish," he insists.

against your better judgment, you dip your head in and blow, soft gusts of breath blowing the invisible eyelash into the stuffy party air.

"excellent," he beams. "what did you wish for?"

and maybe it's because he's mere inches away, maybe it's you getting caught up in the festivities, but you feel very tempted to tell him.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

I think pony stops smokin eventually. after Johnny's death. cause sometimes he'll go to take a drag n the smoke burns his throat n suddenly he's not standin on a street corner in the bright sunlight. he's back in that church. there's fire in his lungs n he's watchin his best friend die.

[loquaciousquark]

hi quark :3<3 i am in your inbox again to see if i could ask you about your writing process :0 i know you've said that you usually write your multi chapter fics completely, then edit each chapter before you post it. do you have a more detailed process or any tips for writing something multi chapter (orrr just writing in general)? :3 i struggle so much with the lack of instant gratification hjklhsajkfh

Oh, this is such a good question! There is zero chance I'll be able to answer it succinctly, but man, I'll do my best.

Yes, I do completely finish all of my fics before posting them, including my long projects. There have only been two exceptions to that in the 20+ years I've been writing fanfiction, and I'll talk about those below. There are four broad reasons for this:

I can't handle the pressure of knowing people are waiting for an update.

I receive enough dopamine from the act of writing that readers' comments are a bonus rather than the goal itself.

I struggle with broad narrative structure.

Relying on others' actions to motivate me is very unhealthy for me, and I've actively worked to avoid it in my adult life.

I'll also preface by saying (though I'm sure everyone's already realized) that this is what is true for me. The truest writing advice I've ever heard is that no advice works for everyone, so please understand this is descriptive, not prescriptive.

1. I can't handle the pressure of knowing people are waiting for an update.

There are only two fics I've ever posted as I've actively written them. The first is River Stone, which I first posted anonymously on the DA Kink Meme in 2012, and the second is Metamorphose, a Thanzag three-part character study from 2023.

River Stone was a prompt fill, which meant I knew where I was going with the plot, and as I was drafting out ideas, I felt secure enough in my chapter structures that I felt okay updating the kink meme as I went. I had originally intended the kidnap arc to take a lot longer than it did; I wanted the relief of Fenris's rescue to be visceral for the reader as well as Hawke.

However, around the second posted part of that section, I started getting comments saying that rescue was taking too long; you can see them in that link above. This made me panic that I'd lose readership if I stuck to my original plan, so I truncated the trip, had Fenris show up much sooner than I'd planned, and ended up posting writing that I was not happy with either structurally or technically.

I've long come to terms with that, and I polished up the parts that most bothered me in the transition to AO3 (and am very proud of that fic regardless), but that feeling of dissatisfaction at caving to pressure and writing something I felt was substandard stuck with me for many years.

Then, in January of 2022, I got really into Hades. I'd already started a different Thanzag fic & been pleased with it, so I thought I could easily tackle a three-part character study of their relationship as framed by the River Styx. This kind of writing was my metaphorical bread and butter, and it'd been ten years since I tried posting as I went; surely it was time to see how much I'd improved & recognize how much easier it was to post concurrently with the writing.

It took me over a year to finish the third chapter. Even worse, I could feel myself getting upset every time I thought about it; a comment would come through my email and I would find myself literally wincing as I opened it, afraid it would be on this story. I started avoiding AO3 notifications altogether—because of one fic! One fic, among the 80 or so I'd finished!—and when I finally sat down after fourteen months to knock the darn thing out once and for all, it was with a sense of immense pressure and guilt and a desperate need to just be done that again spurred writing that did not actually please me or relieve the stress.

They were both such singularly unpleasant experiences that I've never wanted to repeat them. Maybe in 2032 I'll try again, just in case—but maybe not.

2. I receive enough dopamine from the act of writing that readers' comments are a bonus rather than the goal itself.

I know this is probably the most subjective item on this list, but it really is true. It helps that I have a lot of hobbies at which I am very mediocre; I learned pretty early that sometimes the things I spent my time on would really just please me alone, and I had to be okay with that to continue the hobby.

Writing is definitely one of those things, even though I've certainly worked much harder on honing the actual craft there than others. I wrote a lot of schlock growing up, but man, I had such a good time doing it! That enjoyment was enough for me as a kid, and for whatever reason, I was able to carry that forward into my adult writing as well.

It truly brings me an immense joy to transfer the movies playing in my mind at bedtime down to the written page. I mean, the act itself—choosing the right words to convey the tone I want, shaping out the chapters, staring at a blinking cursor—even when it's miserable, I love it. (Even more, once it's finished, the satisfaction at being able to go back to that fic whenever I want—whenever I'm craving that one particular scene, that one particular kiss, that one particular storyline—is absolutely unmatched for me.)

I also am divinely fortunate to be surrounded by dear friends who are also avid writers. @jadesabre301, @eponymous-rose, @perahn, @servantofclio, basically everyone in the movie night group—they are cheerleaders and soundboards and they love the craft as much as I do, and even if I know I'm about to post something that might get two comments if I'm lucky, running a draft by the group & having Perahn recognize and call out a vocative O or a diacritical é or some other silly flourish I'd never dreamed anyone would appreciate is like hoping for a single daisy and getting a bouquet of roses.

All of that is to say: I just love the darn work, and I have people close to me who also love the work, and that does enough of the emotional heavy lifting even on the long projects that I don't have to depend on comments to feel my efforts have been appreciated.

I'm not sure that's particularly useful, but it's true.

3. I struggle with broad narrative structure.

This has been a weakness of mine all the way back to baby's first longfic (Deathsong, Bleach, 2010). Despite the detailed outlines I always draft before beginning a long project, there's always some narrative throughline I fumble without meaning to, and the only way my beta can catch it is if she gets the whole thing at once.

Honestly, I don't think there's a single >30k word fic in my corpus that doesn't have a note from Jade somewhere alerting me to the bones I've forgotten to build.

I want my stories to be good. Not just fun to read, although I do want that too; I mean structurally, from the ground up, I have a vested interest in constructing something narratively sound and coherent and strong. I really want my fics to be well written, at least to my own limits, and I know overarching theme is not one of my strengths.

Therefore, if I want my final product to be the best thing I can make, I need a second set of eyes (Jade's eyes) on the body complete to identify those weak places so I can fix them. If I'm posting as I go, then there's no chance to fix my foundational issues from Chapter 2 when she's only just recognized them in Chapter 6.

(This is also why I so deeply appreciate her editing. When I know my work is flawed, I need that correction over uncritical praise; and it makes her praise more precious when I've earned it with the fixes. And yes, there have been occasions where I didn't make every change she suggested, but I knew thanks to her comments what imperfections I would be permitting to exist, and I decided I could live with them.)

I would rather sacrifice the reward of chapter-by-chapter comments than end up with a fundamentally flawed final fic.

4. Relying on others' actions to motivate me is very unhealthy for me, and I've actively worked to avoid it in my adult life.

I don't think this needs a lot of explanation (like that'll stop me), but I have found over the years that I crave praise. I like winning awards. I like getting good comments on my student evaluations. I like being recognized for my skills and told I did a good job and having all my colleagues go, "ooh, she's so good at what she does."

In fact, I like it enough that I have to avoid it. I haven't opened my student evaluations in over a year because I get addicted to the praise and unreasonably irritated by criticism (especially if I know whatever they're complaining about isn't accurate), and I know the curriculum committee will tell me about any issues anyway. I know my work is good, I really do. I know I'm good at my job, and I know I'm a reasonably proficient writer. I cannot—and must not—depend on others to tell me so to believe it.

@eponymous-rose and I have talked at length about writing now for Veilguard. We both know this is hardly the most popular game in the franchise, and we've had long conversations about why we're choosing to write in its world anyway, which basically boils down to: we want to. We both have stories we want to tell in its flawed, imperfect, compelling world, and we've both come to terms with that likely meaning a low (or even zero) comment count on AO3.

If that comment count is the only metric of success by which I measure, what does it mean when it measures low? If I get one comment on 30k words I bled to write, have I failed? Have I written something of poor quality? Have I wasted my time, done a bad job, hastened the heat death of the universe with my electronic and digital waste?

I can't believe that. I must believe the work itself was worth doing if I've done it to the best of my ability, even if it goes unnoticed in the broader scope of fandom. I have to derive my satisfaction from knowing I have made something out of nothing & polished it as best as I know how. If I become reliant on others' reactions to inspire me to write—if I'm suddenly depending on a comment count becoming n+1 for every chapter before I can begin the next one—then I've surrendered my creative happiness and motivation to the hands of total strangers.

Understand: when I nobly claim that I refuse to write to an algorithm, what I mean is that like an addict, I have to choose over and over to remove myself from the thing that poisons me. I am too susceptible to praise. If I let the dopamine response of comment counts become integral to my writing process, then I risk becoming dependent on it. The only way I know how to prevent that for myself is to remove it from the method altogether.

That does not mean I don't value reader comments; I do, deeply. I have an entire folder of screenshots saved like golden treasures, hoarded up against the bad days. When this Big Bang fic finally comes out, I intend to advertise it to the point of annoyance. I love comments to a probably unhealthy degree. But knowing that about myself means I have to take steps to ensure those comments stay the gifts they are, rather than the payment itself.

I don't want to burn out. I don't want to stop telling stories. And for me, this is the only way I think of to do it. If I want to make something I'm really proud of, something I can go back and reread years later and still love, the writing itself must be the goal, and everything else has to come second to that. I need to know I can survive even if AO3 were to shut down forever tomorrow.

I'm at a place right now where I can believe my work matters even in an empty room. I don't want to lose that. So I write first, and I hope the comments come along after; but I can live with it if they don't.

[gardenofbones-if]

The day I'm finally contemplating release dates for Chapter 2, itch.io decides to remove my game from all search results and block me from replying to comments on both the game page and my devlogs.

Cool, cool, cool cool, cool, cool cool cool...

Received my support ticket this morning so if I don't hear back after Chapter 2 has been beta-read, I can politely bother them again. There is definitely time to get this sorted, and I'm in no way the first person this has happened to, but even so.

Flashbacks to the indefinite tumblr shadowban are real.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

I just wanted to tell you I was suddenly hit with the image of tiny Stan twins in the Horse Verse trying to use a bounce house and then it popping because of Stan's sharp hooves. So they try again later but this time but big fuzzy wool socks on Stan's feet so he can bounce without killing the house

Oh god. You've struck me down, that's so cute

I'm just imagining Itty bitty twin bros, sneaking into some bounce area, the area deflates and Stan, being Stan, tells Ford to just go jump without him. It'll be fine! He can jump pretty good by himself already!

Cue Ford hesitating, seeing baby foal Stan stare longingly at a bounce house, and then he scrambles off to find a solution with all the seriousness of life or death. He needs to figure out how to get Stan on a bounce house, his brothers happiness is at stake.

Then fuzzy socks to the rescue, and the two of them happily bounce together until the people in charge see the two of them and chase them off, giggling.

My heart hurts its so sweet

[xi-xi-chen]

Sketch dump // I don't know why, but I always struggle trying to draw Lux. I have this thing to draw in semi realism, so maybe that's why. But still, how to make lux look like lux...anyways, I'm really still held up on the WR au...