Okay so I've had a think about it.
And YES I KNOW I DIDN'T UPDATE THIS WEEK BUT I WILL THIS WEEK, I PROMISE.
So I tried to think about the last time I went through this writers block, just the time I vented to my friend about it. She asked me, "Well what inspires you to write? Not like lighting candles and all that jazz. When specifically does the creative juices come flowing?" And I was like, "whenever I reread the story from beginning to the current point?" And she said, "well, get reading then."
So yeah I guess I'm going to reread the entire fic. Wish me luck
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Mixin' liquor with depression
Isn't good for anyone
Blame it on my adolesence
Fucking up is too much fun
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[Before Law can get a word in edgewise explaining how he would rather not. Luffy's gone in a whirlwind. Or a typhoon. Any natural disaster that left the land devastated in its wake. Law is left standing in the middle of the cafe, clutching his phone as the door slams shut behind Luffy, the bell ringing his exit.
Law slumps into his stool, suddenly exhausted.
“Sorry about him.” Nami says sliding into the seat that Luffy just vacated, “He’s like that. Once he takes a shine to you, that’s it. He’s all in. He has no care about whether you want to be his friend or not.”
“We’re not friends.” Law mutters. Nojiko snorts into the mug she’s drying, “I barely know him.”
“I’ve been friends with him for years and I barely know him.” Nami responds with a shrug, “That’s just Luffy. Count your blessings that he likes you. People he doesn’t like usually get punched in the face.”]
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I should be working, but today brain bad. Here's a peek into my LawLu hospital AU that is never going to see the light of day because i'm a BAD person who can't finish things.
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So they thought they'd target a retired hero's kids...only to find out their other parent isn't quite as retired.
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strap in for this week's fic flavor: the failsafe episode of season one of the young justice cartoon except the simulation just won't. fuckin. end.
(fics that inspired this at the end)
If I ever did sit down to make my own fic, I'd split it in 3 parts:
The Simulation: bits and pieces of the 40 years Dick lives after most everyone he knows has died
The Return: the immediate aftermath and healing from the trauma of having not-quite-actually lived a whole life only to wake up and find out it was all fake. nothing traumatizing about that whatsoever.
The Unintended Consequence: aka the twist I'd love to add and would hint to in the second part - finding out the simulation, through martian mind fuckery, pulled from the real world (and in many cases, from real minds). Dick meets a bunch of people he didn't think were real outside the confines of his simulated life. A bunch of rowdy, heroism-inclined teens across the years get to meet the sibling/friend/mentor figure they all dreamed up one night.
(actual idea snippets under the cut)
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Dick Grayson is 14 and most of the world's heroes have died. He planned a suicide mission that left him the sole survivor of a doomed team he helped found. The invasion may have been stopped, but is this really the price he wanted to pay?
The first face he sees in the infirmary is Roy's, and he has to close his eyes and just breathe for a few minutes because for one painful moment he'd thought it was Wally. But this isn't the world where his best friend miraculously survived alongside him. This is the one where he got his best friend killed and didn't even give him the courtesy of following behind him. Behind them.
.
Dick Grayson is 27 and has lived longer without Bruce than with him. The invasion's anniversary is always a tough day for him, but that morning seems especially harrowing. He'll get shit for it later, but can't resist stepping out onto the balcony of the manor's master bedroom (Bruce's old bedroom) for a smoke -- his first since he'd promised to quit if Jason, just 15 then, did too.
"Bad habits tend to pile up," he'd said, a rueful quirk to his tired grin. He'd tapped the cigarette twice on the railing and added, lower, "and this one's especially nasty, huh."
He inhales, watches the sun creep across the horizon, and lets acrid smoke burn through his lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in a small cloud. His eyes water, but he doesn't cough. It tastes just as bad as it did the first time he smoked one, not even a year after the invasion and treading water as Robin proved insufficient.
There hadn't been enough heroes to go around then, and Dick had been trained by one of the best. It hadn't been fair, but it had been his plan that had ultimately stopped the invasion. His shoulders everyone's expectations fell on.
He takes another drag, then smudges the lit end against the rail he's leaned on when he hears a boot scuff purposefully against the roofing above him.
"Todd and Pennyworth will be upset with you."
He doesn't turn around. Damian doesn't jump down to join him.
.
Dick Grayson is 54 and wakes up in a room full of ghosts. He hears his long-dead father-figure tell his long-dead team about a simulation they weren't meant to win. A training exercise gone wrong and only half a day spent under their mentors' careful, if slightly panicked, supervision.
He looks at his hands, watching the way his gloves crease when he flexes them in and out of tight fists. He looks at his team, their eyes a little haunted but shoulders slumped with relief even as they grumble. Batman's heavy, gloved hand settles on his shoulder and the weight of it is a nauseating mix of foreign-familiar.
He opens his mouth. Closes it.
Tears prick his eyes behind his domino mask, and he tells himself the suffocating, acidic void building in his chest is just some leftover side effect of the ordeal and not the grief-guilt of outliving yet another family (no matter that they hadn't been real in the end).
.
Dick Grayson is 16-going-on-56 and well used to the coincidences piling up between his simulated life and the real thing. Some of it -- missions and villains he remembers cropping up -- he's marked for Bruce to review and sort as he pleases. Some -- security for the cave, team building anecdotes, and training regimens -- he's shared with the team. And some he keeps only for himself.
Tim is one of those. He knows it's not fair to the kid (so much smaller now than he ever was when Dick lived his simulated life), but he can't help being selfish just for this. Tim is the one kid he's sure he didn't make up, and if Dick's taken to babysitting the kid just to be near at least one member of the family he built for himself in the wake of the worst days of his life .... Well, anyone who says shit about it can happily stand in line to have their teeth kicked in.
Despite this, it still catches him off-guard when he sees a familiar face pop up in one of Bruce's reports.
Jason Todd, caught boosting tires off the batmobile, is nearly the same age now as he was when Dick met him. He stares at the words, but none of them really sink in beyond the kid's name and address. He's moving before he's even made the decision.
He's used to the world kicking him when he's down - lived it for 40 frustrating years. But he has Bruce again. And things with Tim have been so good. And he's always been selfish when it comes to family. If he could just see Jason. If he could just meet him. If he could talk to him.
If if if if if--
.
Inspirations:
Circles in Shattered Mirrors by InfinityIllusion
Fine (But Not Okay) by CharlotteDaBookworm
Verisimilitude by mutemelody
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The two legendary dragons, despite how long they've been alive and how much they've been through, have never been apart in any meaningful way. Zekrom!Ingo is not having a good time (neither is Reshiram!Emmet, but that's neither here nor there :) ) More on this under the cut!
[image id: a two page comic featuring Ingo and Melli from Pokemon Legends Arceus. The entire comic is a sketch, with guidelines still visible, and is done in black and white, aside from cyan lightning. The entire comic is set on a mountaintop cliffside, in the middle of a huge thunderstorm. Everything is very dark, and rain is visible throughout.
Ingo stands at the edge of a cliff, facing away from the viewer and looking into an intense storm. Lightning strikes off in the distance, and harsh winds are ripping at his clothes. The second panel is a closeup profile view of his face. He is leaning into the wind, eyes shut, seeming to be either looking for something within himself or trying to lose himself in the storm. The third panel is a closeup of Melli's face, shadowed.
Melli comes up behind Ingo, and asks him, "Why are you chasing storms, Ingo?" Then, gaining momentum, he seems to yell louder above the storm, "you have a life, so live it. the time before now is long gone." Ingo, still facing away from Melli and staring out at the storm, says nothing for a beat, then without turning around, asks, "Do you think that I do not know that, Warden Melli?"
The next panel looks out over the stormswept mountain. Multiple lightning strikes are visible as Ingo says, "I am well aware that my tracks are without destination. But I cannot switch over to new tracks, lest I risk derailment."
The next panel switches back to showing Ingo and Melli. Ingo has turned around now to face Melli. He has placed a hand to his chest, teeth bared as he shouts, "I know that this could be my home station, if I let it." His eyes now have lightning branching off from them, and his teeth are sharper. Black scales are visible, creeping up his hand. Melli is braced against both the storm and Ingo's sudden anger.
In the final panel, Ingo has somewhat collapsed in on himself, and half turns away. His hands are now twisted into claws, with more obvious scaling, and his teeth are sharper. "But I cannot," he says quietly, visibly defeated. Melli seems less ready for a fight now, and has drawn back, possibly out of sympathy or fear (and maybe both). End id]
Ingo and Emmet are Zekrom and Reshiram!
the gods are real and they're autistic about trains
they can "shift" in and out of their draconic forms, and have several stages in between (human, partial, mid, etc) basically it's a sliding scale of traits! Here we can see Ingo's "partial" state, where he has fangs, claws, and scales but not much else
the two of them have never really been apart. Oh sure they've been on differing sides of the continent, and sometimes one of them will work a differing shift than the other, but not in any meaningful way
not til Ingo gets eebied :)
separated for the first time with no way to reunite, they find themselves completely unable to shift fully, only barely able to get to a partial form. For Ingo this is pretty convenient! Not as much to try and hide/explain away :) for Emmet this is terrifying
there's another side effect to them being apart, and it's that their roles...don't switch, but Emmet finds himself endlessly driven by the ideal to find his brother, while Ingo is constantly seeking the truth of who he was and what he left behind. We get to see a little bit of the conflict this causes within Ingo here!
they do eventually reunite and it's cool as hell, I'd love to draw it out someday
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I don’t post often, but I felt like this was an important thing to post. I found an old cartridge in a garage sale that seemed to be a knock off of undertale?? I havnt played it yet but me and @banesberry-anomoly are gonna be posting about it, so keep an eye out :))
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hello sapphics <3
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I feel like I've lost my passions...
I remember 5 years ago being on a boat, travelling to University. It was night time, no one was around. My Da and sister were up in their cabin trying to sleep. But it was far too early for me to be sleeping. I mean, I was used to staying up late and writing. Because it was exciting. I didn't know when to stop. So there was me, on the boat, in the empty kids play area, hiding in a tunnel to write.
Such a core memory.
Every job I've had - save my current - I'd often write during breaks....and maybe sometimes when I was supposed to be working. I was committed. I needed the world to read the story I've worked so hard on.
Two years ago, Christmas 2022, I woke up at 6AM to write instead of laying on until 8AM and getting up to open presents. And even later after Christmas Dinner, while we were watching movies, I was writing.
I completed NaNoWriMo 2022. It made me excited for NaNoWriMo 2023....
But I didn't partake this time.
I set up my goals, made the projects...but never felt the motivation.
So yeah, I feel like I've lost motivation to write all together. And I don't know if its my executive dysfunction or just general laziness, but whatever it is, I hate it.
I want to see Drag or Die to the very end. Of all the fanfics I've ever written, this one is my baby. I have been working on this story for half a decade now, how can I not adore this stupid story I've created about my favourite Drag Queens?
But I'm just so afraid that I'll leave the procrastination to go on way too long, and by the time Drag or Die 10 is posted completely, I still wont be done Drag or Die 11. And then I'll just let readers down. I know there is not many of you but idc about numbers, it just means a lot already that I even have readers.
You know what though? I was in a job for 2 full years, only to end up getting gaslit daily, so I left. And that was the job I would write a lot in. Then I went to be a housekeeper, so no time at all to write. And by the time I got home, I'd be too exhausted to do any writing.
And now I'm that used to it I just don't feel motivated at all anymore.
So yeah, I blame that bastardin' hotel. lol
On a lighter note, I've started drawing again. So it seems the creative juices are slowly starting to brew again. Fingers crossed.
Also I want to point out this is nothing to do with views or traffic to the fic. When I mean I don't have motivation to write anymore, it's not just Drag or Die. There are 2 other stories too. And like I said, I already love the fact there are people who read it.
Anyway TLDR: I used to love writing but a hotel made me lost motivation.
Advice please?
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i honestly don't think anyone will care but I keep brainrotting over the idea of a pjo/rainworld au
I've turned the Seven into funky slimy cats dealing w concepts far beyond their comprehensions lmao
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Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Oh yeah Hammond would make an excellent tank man
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watching taxi driver but what i am actually seeing is the elaborate alternate version im constructing in my head where lucifer has to escort sam through hell in order to save bela, who didn't deserve the fate she got, and sam is so filled with hope that he can right this wrong and complete the trial and then when they get there she's a demon <3
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Ya know, every animatronic in Meteors (turned or not) would absolutely have a collection of random things from the outside world. I'm not sure what everyone would end up favouring specifically, but I know that every single one of them has at least a temporary fascination with plants.
Look at this little flower! It's so tiny! How can something so small grow like that? What do you mean the trees were once like little sticks in the ground?! Grass just... Grows?? On its own??? How's it do that...??? How does it survive the winter??? THIS is where food comes from???? Wait, you can just... grow stuff on your window sill???? How do they grow if they don't eat...? HOW'D THIS PLANT GET UNDER THE CONCRETE?!
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I need an au where Reginald adopts both the umbrellas and the sparrows I want the chaos of 14 neurodivergent children, 1 robot mom, a father who doesn’t know how to father, and Pogo
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