MANIFESTING

that was a big fat lie i have not been writing and it’s only thanks to the Mandalorian that i opened another google docs so say thank you to the Mandalorian

if you’re curious about the Mandalorian Fic, I named the Docs “What a waste to be so alone”. Take it as you will

hey yea im back and i’m alive and i’m here to tell you that i am hyperfixating on The Mandalorian 

i am writing. i am writing about what i promised. but i am also writing about the Mandalorian. you can read what i wrote, but im also writing more. its just a sorta continuation of that fic.

“I didn’t plan on being a wanted fugitive.

Of course not. That’s not a thing you plan on doing. You don’t wake up on a fine Monday morning, look up at your ceiling and say to yourself; ‘Today, I’m going to become a criminal.’ You don’t. You don’t do that. Please, don’t do that.”

GARYYYYYYYYYYY

read cucumber quest

Gary. Just Gary.

this is a reminder, PSA, reassurance etc etc for anybody who is second guessing their plot.

just because you are writing a book that contains:

a school for magic users

witches, wizards, magical folk

a summer camp (or just camp) for “special” kids

gods/goddesses (Greek Norse etc etc)

people who control the elements

people who hunt demons and other supernatural creatures

people in a dystopian society who break away from the government

people who live in a weird paranormal town

a horror/mystery with terrifying supernatural creatures

a main character who is not female

a main character with dead or missing parents

a character who lives with an abusive parent, family member, or guardian

does not mean it is:

a rip off harry potter (you could probably do better than rowling anyway)

popular and already seen a thousand times

copying Camp Half-Blood or the Parent Trap

a badly written Percy Jackson

an avatar knock off

stolen from the plot of supernatural or shadow hunters

basic, unrealistic, overused

taken from Tim Burton movies or Gravity Falls

trying to be Stephen King or Dean Koontz

sexist, anti-women

stereotypical, a sympathy trap, a typical sob story

inappropriate for younger audiences, a knock version of the Dursley’s or Al Marsh

but it does make it:

magical, a new glimpse at a new magical world, most likely 500x better than rowling’s

witches, wizards and magic folk will never go out of style. magic is so fucking cool and has so much potential for new and different plots, characters etc

fun!! who doesn’t love summer camps in books?? au’s? actual plot settings?? summer camp settings are amazing, top notch, just *chefs kiss*

i mean, we all love loki, so why not give us stories about his kids?? not necessarily fan fic, but seriously, ancient gods and goddesses are so dope and really deserve more modern books written about them.

not used often, and so cool to see societies built around the elements! i don’t think we’ve gotten enough content of different worlds that have powers withdrawn from elements, it’s such a cool and untouched area of magic!!

never overused. i could read books about supernatural creature hunters for the rest of my life. you can make your own creatures!! and add cool human-monster hybrids. god, the possibilities are limitless

weird paranormal towns are just the best. who doesn’t love weird, run down, and low populated towns with a complex supernatural backstory that revolves is crazy shit happening all the time?? if you don’t, you have no taste. sorry but, i don’t make the rules. paranormal small towns always have been and always will be the shit so please keep writing more

BE THE NEXT BIG HORROR WRITER. horror is such a complex genre to write and i honestly admire everyone who can write horror. i don’t think there’s nearly enough horror content coming out these days. give me more, MORE. nothing in that genre is overrated, write about vampires for all i care, sure it’s been done a thousand times, but with your own twist added, you can make something never seen before

i am a female. i dont get offended by main character being anything but. yes, there are far more male mcs than female, (in more popular modern literature) (and don’t get me started about the unrepresentation for non-binary, gender fluid, trans etc in literature. i will never stop ranting about it) but that doesn’t mean not making your mc female a crime.

dead parents are a common way of portraying a mc’s loneliness, lack of affection, lack of restraint, lack of a good parental figure. but, it can also be a good way to represent other things like their relationship with and other family member/guardian, that you’re parental figure doesn’t need to be a blood related parent. honestly, keep the dead parents trope comin, those kids are always awesome anyway

extremely realistic. not everyone has a perfect home life, and it’s important to see that in literature as well. who knows, if your mc escapes their abusive guardian, friend, significant other, it opens up the possibility to helping other in similar situations.

and most important of all, every single wip out there is:

unique

amazing

special

appreciated

awesome

dope as fuck

deserving of awards, praise, and popularity

not to be given up on

important

different

unlike anything else

loved, wanted, and needed

please don’t give up on your wip. it’s all of the above, and really deserves to see the light of being completed, ravished, praised, appreciated. someone out there will love it, i’m sure of that. so keep writing, keeping being awesome, and keep fucking writing. :)

I know nothing and my heart aches.

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (tr. by Margaret Jull Costa)

Suddenly remembered this one dream I had when I was running a pretty bad fever.

Y’know that one Tom and Jerry episode where Tom dies and he goes to a train station in heaven? Yeah, I was there. And I was arguing with the train conductor. And I was going; “Let me in, you know who I am.”  But then the train conductor. They tipped their hat at me and shook their head. “I’m sorry, my friend, but it’s not your time.” And then I woke up.

damn fuck i will spam little nightmares on main you legally cannot stop me

spoilers. 

also i’ve never played either games i just watched the walkthroughs and im hooked goddamn it

1/ oh my god, oh my gfuckkdnnddndg god. the game was so beautiful. the graphics were :Chef’s kiss. i want to see every shiny wet surface from the rain in my head at all times. i want to print the hunter’s forest and make it my wallpaper. i want to cry myself to sleep staring at the purple glow of the doors in the transmission tower. i am going apeshit over the graphics oh my goddd

2/ maybe it was just me but i never really was into into little nightmares before? i mean i watched the first game obvs, and i knew there was a second game, but I didn’t hype myself up or stave of my hunger (hah) by gleaming little details as it developed.  so when Mono rescued the little kid from the hunter’s cabin i was like ‘awww, friend. friend from woods. hold hands with friend. team up with friend. keep friend safe at all costs’ and that was that. then what happens? in the rain? after the school? little friend gets a raincoat? little friend gets a very familiar raincoat? little friend is actually really fucking important to plot?? i lost my goddamn mind.

3/ the monsters all freaked me out. one way or another, they did. for the hunter, it was the way six and mono got rid of him (THE DETAIL OF THE SHOTGUN’S DRAWBACK AHSUAIHSUIHSUIWH WHAT). for the teacher it was her freaky ass neck. for the doctor well, other than the fact he’s practically spiderman, it was the fact that they burnt him alive. oh my god and thin man. Thin Man. oh my god.

4/ the details. the details. the details. like i said earlier, the shotgun draw back. the fact that if you hold a flashlight and six’s hand in the same hand then you can’t really use the flashlight. the fact that if you shine a flashlight in six’s eyes then she lifts a hand up to cover them. just oh my god, they do not rest.

5/ six’s coding. man. she’s a really person isn’t she? where she go after you defeated the living hand and got a power cell? you think she’s just gonna wait for you at the exact same spot?? you think you’re, what, a video game character? you think you have to do everything by yourself and act surprised when six actually knows what to do? what do you think she is, an npc of a video game?? huh??? huh???

6/ i think we reached the ending now. the ending tore my heart out. i was like the greek guy that stole fire for Man but got punished by having eagles eat my liver out every day. that but it’s my heart. what the fuck man. oh my god after all we been true. damn fuck six and mono were friends how could you. let them be friends. let them be friends. they need friends.

7/ obviously when my heart has been broken in such a violent manner the only remedy is fanfiction. oh my god the fanfiction. glorious. amazing. you lot are doing god’s work. i will die for each and every one of you. 

magic; colours

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The Apprentice turned her head. “What?” she teased. “Getting cold feet?” The Companion tensed. “No!” he was quick to say. “I’m just....worried!” “Uh huh.” The Apprentice chuckled softly beneath her breath. Her hand gripped around a branch, pulling herself up an incline. “What could you possibly be worried about?” She paused and waited, letting The Companion reach up to her level. “Well,” he huffed, “we’re walking through the woods in the middle of the night.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s kinda sus.” “Almost midnight,” she corrected. The Apprentice made to shove at him, but decided against it. Standing at the edge of an decline might not be the best place to rough house. “It’s not like we’re walking in the dark anyway,” she countered - lifting up her flashlight. The Companion hefted his own almost instinctively. With the movement, the light flickered a few times - then died off completely. A look of disbelief flitted across his face. “Really?” He slapped the tool a few times. The Companion groaned, “I just changed the batteries on this thing.” The Apprentice couldn’t help but laugh. “Here,” she extended a hand forward, “let me.” The Companion’s eyes widened in the light of her flashlight. Without another word of protest, he passed over the malfunctioning tool. The Apprentice shoved her flashlight beneath her armpit - using her now two free hands to tilt the broken flashlight around. Her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed - her fingers tightening their grip around the tool. Purple tendrils streamed out of her fingers. They roamed freely for a while - before The Apprentice narrowed her eyes to slits. The tendrils were jerked back towards the tool, their tips sharpening - plunging and filling up the flashlight with a bright purple glow. As soon as the glow faded, The Apprentice let her shoulders relax. “Tadaa,” she said, grinning - her finger flicking the flashlight back on. Her Companion made a soft sound - a huff of amusement. “Thanks,” he said, taking back the now-fixed flashlight. He glanced up to her. “Purple?” “Electricity,” The Apprentice confirmed. Abruptly, she turned away. “We’re almost at the summit. Come on.” Behind her, The Companion huffed out a breath. “I thought yellow would be electricity.” “That’s a stereotype. Yellow is healing magic.” “Healing magic? Wouldn’t that be green?” The Apprentice paused and gave him a look. “When was the last time you ate green medicine?” The Companion lifted up a finger, then paused. “Fair point.” The Apprentice rolled her eyes - although snickered softly. “Yellow is healing magic because it represents the sun,” she explained. She stepped over a gnarled root. “Green is speed.” “Because green means go?” “Exactly.” The Companion snorted. His footsteps brushing against the undergrowth, he moved quicker to come up beside her. “Okay,” he said, “what about blue?” “Blue’s air.” “White?” “Cleanliness.” “Black.” “Evil,” The Apprentice whispered out, her tone dropped by a few octaves. The act broke at the sight of The Companion’s wide eyed gaze. “Black’s the dirt,” she chuckled. “Fertility and what not.” The Companion rolled his eyes and snorted. “Is there even a color for evil?” The Apprentice stopped then, thinking. “Good question,” she hummed. Slowly, she began to move forward. “I don’t think so,” she murmured. “Evil isn’t a magic - it’s a choice.” The Companion gave no response to that for a while. They made the rest of their journey in silence. Finally, they both came up to a rocky summit. The Companion grinned at her then. “Ready?” he asked, fishing out a device from his backpack. The Apprentice grinned and dropped her own pack. “Ready,” she confirmed, rolling up her sleeve. Her Companion held a small cube in his hand. One wrist flicked upwards to check at his watch - whilst the other held out the cube towards her. The Apprentice grabbed it between both hands - shuddering softly at the warmth it shot through her veins. After a few seconds, he nodded. Held out five fingers into the air. “Five.” The Apprentice braced herself. “Four.” The woods around them went silent. “Three.” The Companion’s grin grew wider. “Two.” Her own grin grew. “One.” With a short grunt of effort, The Apprentice shot multi-coloured tendrils into the cube. The Device shook slightly in her hands, before- In a glorious light show, it shot the tendrils up into the air. A silent explosion - their own personal firework show. More tendrils got shot upwards, more lights, more colours that lit up their faces. The Apprentice stepped back, brushing her shoulders against her Companion. “Happy New Year.” She smiled. The shoulder beside her nudged her gently. “Happy New Year.”

if anyone wanted to ask me why I like writing, I’d say that the people in my head need to be free. Because they do. Once I die, I’ll bring all the thoughts I ever had with me and none of you will know - none of you will be able to know what thoughts I had when I was alive. And I have worlds and communities and cultures inside my head and I don’t want to bring them down with me, I don’t want to be the only person who ever walked the streets or talked to the people or danced the cultures. The worlds I make may be filled with people - but they’re all me, and the streets are lonely. I guess I’d mostly say it’s because I want to share. I want to share the worlds, the lands, the realms I make. I want to share the stories I’ve told to myself so many times.  I want to put my mark - however small - so that when I do inevitably die, I won’t bring this world I made down with me. I don’t want to walk the streets alone anymore.