“Don’t Force Yourself Into Sexual Situation Just To Satisfy Your Partner” Should Never Be A Radical

be nice to goblins or taste my blade

Me @ people trying to turn every aspect of my identities into a “discourse”:

Teifling warm-ups with Jesta and Molleh~

CHURCH INFO

Compiled all the Church Animatic info so far into a doc!  

This is not by any means a slight against the other person who started this process a while ago!  But since I have all the information in my head, and I’d never demand that they keep theirs constantly updated…this seemed like the best way to proceed. @v@

Some relevant notes:

-To comment, select the text you want to comment on and click the little speech bubble button in the top right corner!  There’s also a key command for this but I’ve forgotten it.  To reply to someone else’s comment, just click it.

-Please don’t just write comments in my text!

-To view the nice organized outline, click the pull-out tab near the top left corner with the list symbol on it!

Concept: a fantasy setting where cursing people works like serving a subpoena – i.e., you have to provide notice, in writing, of the cause and particulars of the curse in order for it to take effect, and the intended target can avoid being cursed by constructing a plausible argument that they never received the necessary paperwork.

Some Show/Story Pitching tips for young creators.

F2, H2, J2, P1, Z1

again just hops

h2 summer or winter

– She doesnt like either (unless shes in a really mild climate) theres about two weeks of spring and fall that are real nice

j2 what makes them happy

– being useful. success

rest answered already

The Final Agni Kai is great for a lot of reasons but it’s also a great example of how to write a fight scene because it was about more than who “won” the fight.

Zuko lost that fight, technically speaking. He took a hit for Katara and wasn’t able to defeat Azula within the bounds of the Agni Kai. He got knocked out and would have died if not for Katara. You could make the argument that Azula defeated her brother here but

She didn’t win.

It’s tempting to write fight scenes as a contest of might where characters try and deplete each other’s imaginary health meters until one of them comes out on top but the most interesting fight scenes, to me, are ones where there is more at stake. Where fighting is a method to resolve a dispute of ideologies rather than a contest of physical brawn. 

This was a fight for the soul of the Fire Nation and even though Zuko ended up flat on his ass, electrocuted, with a second scar from a family member for his troubles

This is where Zuko won. 

This is where the Fire Lord sacrificed himself for a waterbender and member of an “enemy” nation. This is where he wrested the soul of his country away from a century of imperialist rule. 

Yeah, Azula got him with her fifth level Lightning Bolt spell; big whoop. She won the Agni Kai but when has an Agni Kai ever meant anything? 

From Season 1, the Agni Kai has been shown to be a futile dick-measuring contest between firebenders. Ozai “won” the Agni Kai with his son, but defeating a defenseless child is not a victory worth winning. Likewise, Azula’s defeat of Zuko here was the end of their Agni Kai but it doesn’t matter. 

Zuko doesn’t need to beat Azula to win. 

If this was a video game, this would have been the end of Zuko, but it’s not. It’s the moment where Zuko wrests control of the Fire Nation’s destiny away from his father and sister and reunites it with a whole and peaceful world by intentionally losing to protect a friend. 

The Fire Nation fell when Azula knocked Zuko out. It rose again when Katara brought him back to life. 

Azula won the final Agni Kai but in the end, Zuko won the Fire Nation’s future

I have … a tip.

If you’re writing something that involves an aspect of life that you have not experienced, you obviously have to do research on it. You have to find other examples of it in order to accurately incorporate it into your story realistically.

But don’t just look at professional write ups. Don’t stop at wikepedia or webMD. Look up first person accounts.

I wrote a fic once where a character has frequent seizures. Naturally, I was all over the wikipedia page for seizures, the related pages, other medical websites, etc.

But I also looked at Yahoo asks where people where asking more obscure questions, sometimes asked by people who were experiencing seizures, sometimes answered by people who have had seizures.

I looked to YouTube. Found a few individual videos of people detailing how their seizures usually played out. So found a few channels that were mostly dedicated to displaying the daily habits of someone who was epileptic.

I looked at blogs and articles written by people who have had seizures regularly for as long as they can remember. But I also read the frantic posts from people who were newly diagnosed or had only had one and were worried about another.

When I wrote that fic, I got a comment from someone saying that I had touched upon aspects of movement disorders that they had never seen portrayed in media and that they had found representation in my art that they just never had before. And I think it’s because of the details. The little things.

The wiki page for seizures tells you the technicalities of it all, the terminology. It tells you what can cause them and what the symptoms are. It tells you how to deal with them, how to prevent them.

But it doesn’t tell you how some people with seizures are wary of holding sharp objects or hot liquids. It doesn’t tell you how epileptics feel when they’ve just found out that they’re prone to fits. It doesn’t tell you how their friends and family react to the news.

This applies to any and all writing. And any and all subjects. Disabilities. Sexualities. Ethnicities. Cultures. Professions. Hobbies. Traumas. If you haven’t experienced something first hand, talk to people that have. Listen to people that have. Don’t stop at the scholarly sources. They don’t always have all that you need.

Concept: a D&D-style fantasy setting where humanity’s weird thing is that we’re the only sapient species that reproduces organically.

Dwarves carve each other out of rock. In theory this can be managed alone, but in practice, few dwarves have mastered all of the necessary skills. Most commonly, it’s a collaborative effort by three to eight individuals. The new dwarf’s body is covered with runes that are in part a recounting of the crafters’ respective lineages, and in part an elaboration of the rights and duties of a member of dwarven society; each dwarf is thus a living legal argument establishing their own existence.

Elves aren’t made, but educated. An elf who wishes to produce offspring selects an ordinary animal and begins teaching it, starting with house-breaking, and progressing through years of increasingly sophisticated lessons. By gradual degrees the animal in question develops reasoning, speech, tool use, and finally the ability to assume a humanoid form at will. Most elves are derived from terrestrial mammals, but there’s at least one community that favours octopuses and squid as its root stock.

Goblins were created by alchemy as servants for an evil wizard, but immediately stole their own formula and rebelled. New goblins are brewed in big brass cauldrons full of exotic reagents; each village keeps a single cauldron in a central location, and emerging goblings are raised by the whole community, with no concept of parentage or lineage. Sometimes they like to add stuff to the goblin soup just to see what happens – there are a lot of weird goblins.

Halflings reproduce via tall tales. Making up fanciful stories about the adventures of fictitious cousins is halfling culture’s main amusement; if a given individual’s story is passed around and elaborated upon by enough people, a halfling answering to that individual’s description just shows up one day. They won’t necessarily possess any truly outlandish abilities that have been attributed to them – mostly you get the sort of person of whom the stories could be plausible exaggerations.

To address the obvious question, yes, this means that dwarves have no cultural notion of childhood, at least not one that humans would recognise as such. Elves and goblins do, though it’s kind of a weird childhood in the case of elves, while with halflings it’s a toss-up; mostly they instantiate as the equivalent of a human 12–14-year-old, and are promptly adopted by a loose affiliation of self-appointed aunts and uncles, though there are outliers in either direction.