My Favorite Genre Of Photo Is Cosplayer Out In A Random Place In Public. And I’m Not Talking Abt Malls

Rereading the Crown of Roses comics by @crown-of-roses-thsc/ @snickerzanddoodlez because why not

I think they look like a survival group of a dystopian movie where no one in the group actually likes the others

I mean- They kind of are-

You're welcome :3

I'm happy when I can makes others happy

I don't know if this knowledge is good or a bit sad but: One could read that you definitely know what you're writing about and how someone feels during a panic attack etc.

I kind of know those feelings myself and it's just great to read something a be like "oh, yeah, this writer absolutely know what thery're writing and it's really realistic. The character is very relatable at this point. Awesome" 😅

Though I'm sorry you had experienced such things :'<

But it's awesome when people can make something great out of their bad experiences in life and create such wonderful things, pls don't stop🫶✨️

And may the spirits of the art and writing blocks have mercy and stay away from us all FOR A LONG TIME

An Overgrowth of Grief: A Crown of Roses Fic

(This little Multi-Chapter fic is focused on Brutus’ backstory of what occurred to have made him jaded, quiet and to avoid growing attached to others. There is death involved in this fic & hints of self-harm.)

You have been warned...

This fic goes out to @crown-of-roses-thsc

Special and continued appearances in the future of OCs Wolf and Danny belong to @capturedcharlesau and @oreothefox715

Enjoy chapter 1

Chapter One: Denial

Brutus stood there trembling like a leaf staring at the lifeless bodies that were once his friends he called family, the chief, Terrence Suave had him brought here to his office by Carol Cross just to watch him blow a hole right between each of their heads. All four of them. They were now on the floor bleeding out and no longer breathing. There was no light in their eyes, no sign of life, the double agent couldn’t even scream. Let alone cry. There was a lump in his throat as his gaze flickered from each corpse.

There were tears streaming down his face but not a sound could escape his throat, it hurt so much. No amount of words could describe the pain in his chest he was feeling.

“Well, now that we got rid of them…” Terrence Suave glanced back at the newbie who was a damn emotional wreck, did this kid not know that his little friends were planning his downfall? If that’s the case well then it was no wonder why he was such a lil ray of sunshine for the first few days.

“W..Why?” Was all Brutus could manage to ask.

The chief grinned as he sauntered up to the young man, “I had a feelin’ you were about as bright as a broken lightbulb, didn’t know you were THIS dumb though.”

The double agent looked at the chief to find the man standing in his space, he felt scared, confused and wanted to run away..but he couldn’t. His body was frozen in place, the tears didn’t stop and he could feel a panic attack slowly building up. His mind was a mess.

The chief took great pleasure in seeing how terrified Brutus was, “How about I dumb it all down for ya’ Danger Boy? To put it simply, Yer lil friends were a small band of traitors! Bunch a folks who didn’t agree with how I run things round the clan.” Terrence explained. “So I called em’ here and had Carol bring you in to show ya what happens when you think you know any better than me.”

An example.

That’s what he turned them into, a pile of bodies was Terrence Suave’s version of showing one what happens when they try to put an end to the current leader for the betterment of the clan.

Calix Crane, Eden Finch, Reid Vandergriff and Quinn Briar.

They were a small group of rebels who wanted Terrence dead, Brutus didn’t know of this until now. They never told him. Perhaps it was to protect him, his friends didn’t want him to get involved with their work yet he was still brought to watch them die one by one. That only made him wonder though, would the chief put a bullet through his brain now or wait for another opportunity?

“Now, what to do with you.~” Terrence chuckled as he twirled his gun, “You weren't REALLY part of their band of fools and ya don't look like much of a threat to me.” he smirked.

He found it comical how this pathetic dolt of a lower rank just so happened to wind up making friends with the wrong group of Toppats.

Brutus stood there waiting for the chief to come to a conclusion as to how he'll deal with him, the tension in the air was thicker than fog in the morning after a long rainfall.

It was terrifying.

Terrence shrugged with a sigh, “Eh, you're free to go but just remember Danger Boy…” his hand lightly squeezed around the young man’s throat. “stay in line and don't make me regret keepin' you alive. Got it?”

The only response he got out of Brutus was a frantic nod.

The chief grinned as he let go of him, “Good, run along now and stay outta trouble.~”

The double agent almost fell to the floor as he slipped up a bit while running out of the room, Brutus ran like his life fucking depended on it not even daring to look back. It felt like there was a darkness chasing after him down the hallways of the airship as he desperately rushed to his room.

Without even bothering to think he slammed his door close behind him. His heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it, each quick paced beat echoed so loudly in his own ears it was overwhelming.

Brutus gripped at his vest over his heart, it was getting difficult to breathe, his chest was in pain and he was becoming so dizzy in an instant.

Oh sticks, he was having a fucking panic attack.

The room was spinning, his mind playing out the horrific moment again and again as Terrence Suave’s words echoed in his head. His friends were gone, dead, just a bunch of bloody corpses left to rot and given no proper burial. Nobody but him knew, no one else would care about those four or bother keeping them alive in memory.

That was all left up to the double agent to do, he had to shoulder it all…it’s fine.

No.

Nothing is fine.

He isn’t fine right now, his thoughts are out of control, his breathing and heartbeats are in the same predicament.

How is he supposed to be okay and keep on surviving this hell on his own? Who could he trust? Was anyone else planning to turn against Suave? Brutus fell to his hands and knees as his panic attack worsened, breathe, he needed to breathe yet that felt like such a difficult task to do.

“C'mon, in and out.” Brutus thought to himself, “Inhale for five….hold…and then exhale. It's simple and easy.”

Inhale.

One….two…three…four…five…and exhale for five. Repeat.

Brutus couldn't see past the tears that continued to stream down his face like an endless waterfall, he swore that even as he tried to control his breathing it felt like he was drowning or worse.

Some kind of greenery of overgrowth was strangling him, taking away his ability to breathe.

This sorrow, this pain was quickly consuming him in it's heavy tidal waves that came crashing down to push him deeper into the depths of the sea he fought to keep his head above.

All Brutus could do was curl up on the carpet flooring of his room as he passed out from his panic attack.

He was so fucking exhausted, he wanted to just stay in his room locked away from the rest of the clan. This all had to be a bad dream, his friends couldn't possibly have actually died…right? This was just a nightmare.

That's all this was, a really bad dream.

Tomorrow was going to be fine, his friends would be alive and well. Brutus was in denial and already refusing to believe that anything that had recently occurred was the slightest bit real.

When the sun comes up, this will all fade away.

Oh, how wrong the double agent would be. Calix, Eden, Reid and Quinn were dead and that's how they'd stay.

The cycle of grief began and it would continually grow its painful thorny vines around his heart, it would slowly crush his heart till it bled and until he cried to bargain with death.

For now, he laid there on the floor asleep and emotionally drained after the panic attack he had just now.

.

.

.

.

When morning did come, Brutus expected Quinn to come by his room. They'd always be there to walk with him, their schedules were almost the same, save for the work the two did in the airship. But there was no knock at his door, their cheerful voice wasn't there to check up on him if he was awake.

Brutus refused to believe that last night had ever happened.

It couldn't have.

His friends still had to be alive, but if Quinn wasn't coming to his door then…no. No, They aren't dead. None of them are. They can't be. None of what occurred last night was real, he'll see them around somewhere in the airship.

Right?

The double agent didn't feel like moving from where he laid on the carpet flooring, his body felt like it was so heavy he couldn't get up. There's no point in believing that his friends are alive if he didn't get up and go see for himself. Yet he was still so damn exhausted from the panic attack he had, Brutus was worried that he wouldn't be strong enough to make it through today.

As he made an attempt to push himself up from the floor his arms slightly trembled, all that crying and one hell of a panic attack really sapped him of his energy.

But in his heart he NEEDED to be sure that his friends were alive, they had to be okay. They were all he had and yet he could see it in his mind…their lifeless bodies covered in blood on the floor of Terrence's office. There was a sudden change of emotions in his heart, he felt angry. His blood boiled at the thought of that moment being real.

It couldn't be.

It isn't real, it didn't happen.

So get. up.

Brutus clenched his jaw as he forced himself up from the floor, no amount of exhaustion was going to slow him down after that god awful nightmare. He wondered though, if last night WAS real, then his friends were a group of rebels and that would mean everything was real.

And he was in denial.

It wasn't FAIR.

.

.

.

Having finally managed to get up, Brutus wandered from his room and headed for the Cafeteria.

Can't work on an empty stomach.

Hell, he almost fucking starved himself a bit after staying in his room for longer than usual…he couldn't stop worrying about his friends. Brutus was gripping his own arms so tightly as that fear and anxiety in the back of his mind resurfaced.

“Please, please let last night just be some awful nightmare.”

As soon as he made it into the cafeteria, the double agent began eyeing the area for his friends, but none of them could be found. There were very few people in the cafeteria too…what time was it?

He couldn't have slept in until…until..

How long had he been locked away in his room for?

“Brutus?” Danny Felizima had taken notice of the young man looking rather confused. He hadn't even seen his nephew for breakfast or even his friends.

“Are you alright? You weren't here for breakfast and I didn't even see you on break.”

Brutus anxiously rubbed his arms while looking around for Calix and the others, “Tío, have you seen Calix, Eden, Quinn or Reid? Q-Quinn usually comes by my room to wake me up so we all can have breakfast together but…I’m so fucking scared that last night was so real!” He was starting to cry again.

Danny's eyes widened, “L-Last night? Dio mio, Brutus what happened last night?”

He heard rumors about a small group of traitors being dealt with, which made the Italian chef worry even more for his nephew's well-being.

“Last night, I..I THINK it was all a nightmare but..but I'm not so sure now, Terrence had Carol Cross bring me to his office and..and from there he made me watch as he shot my friends!” Brutus’ eyes were wide as his hands started to tremble, he was so fucking afraid of it all being real. “Tío..please tell me you saw my friends! Please tell me they're okay!”

Danny's eyes filled with tears as he brought his poor nephew into a tight hug, “Brutus, mi dispiace, they're gone mi monello.”

The Italian chef watched as his nephew began silently crying, it seemed like the poor young man was going to need time to process the horrors he had been subjected to.

Brutus on the other hand was frozen in place as his Tío hugged him, last night was real, yet he couldn't accept it. He couldn't accept that his friends were dead. People who felt like family to him, loved him like he was their own blood…were dead.

Today would only prove to be a difficult day, he had never felt so alone.

His heart was aching so terribly that grief’s thorns were sinking deeper, tightening around Brutus' fragile heart and creeping up his throat.

Planning to make it impossible to breathe once more.

.

.

.

.

After Danny had managed to convince the poor young man to get some food in his stomach to make it through the day, Brutus was silently trudging around the airship. The way he walked around looked as if he were lost, unaware of how long he'd been walking around for.

What are you even doing at this point?

He..He was trying to get to.. somewhere.

Where were you even going?

He didn't know anymore, Brutus was lost without his friends and it hurt so much.

“Brutus…”

It felt like everything had fallen apart so quickly and every emotion was happening at random like rapid fire when he thought about that moment in time.

This pain, this amount of grief…it felt so extreme and explosive.

“Brutus…”

Would he ever be able to be okay again?

“Hey! Brutus!”

The double agent stopped in his tracks as he finally heard someone calling out to him. It was Wolf, the Toppat Clan's greatest blacksmith…technically she was probably also the ONLY Blacksmith as far as Brutus was aware.

“Oh, hey Wolf.” He tiredly greeted her, “What's up?”

The blacksmith’s expression was one of concern and worry, she felt as though the young man's energy was fading fast.

His spark was dying out, why?

“You don't look alright, do you…wanna talk?” Wolf asked. “I get if you don't but I just couldn't stand to see you looking so sad. So if there's something you need to get off your chest I guess I'm gonna be willing to be a listener.”

Don't talk about it, you can't tell her.

You'll get her killed.

You'll put her in trouble, you're the reason the others died.

“Brut-” “I-I’M SORRY I JUST..I HAVE TO BE SOMEWHERE RIGHT NOW WOLF!” Brutus spoke over the blacksmith.

Wolf could only watch in concern as the young man ran off to wherever his schedule took him…did he even know where he was going?

The poor guy looked so lost and afraid.

“Brutus…what happened to you buddy?” She couldn't imagine what caused him to be the way he suddenly was now but surely he'd talk to her or a friend of his about it.

Right?

.

.

.

.

.

How long had he been going through these halls for? How long had he been searching for something else to do after mindlessly by memory finishing his usual routine?

Minutes?

Hours?

Brutus’ mind forgot about last night again, believing Calix and the others were still alive and that was his reason for wandering these hallways. His footsteps felt so heavy, his body and mind exhausted, his gaze vacant and unfocused.

Brutus kept looking for them.

For Eden.

For Reid.

For Quinn…

“Calix…” He mumbled aloud, “Calix, where did you go? Please…I’m so alone..”

Other Toppats had taken notice of the lost soul wandering every single moment around the airship. His mind lost to the grief unable to accept the truth of his situation, Calix and the others…were dead.

Brutus tiredly stumbled into his room eventually, the door closed behind him before he collapsed on the carpet flooring.

Exhausted. Heartbroken. Grieving.

Everything felt so…so very heavy. His whole body was weighed down by an unseen force only his very imagination could conjure up.

Heavy thorny vines crushing and weighing his form down to the point he couldn't see an end to the vines. They wrapped around him letting their prisoner know that he couldn't ever forget what happened to the ones who were so close to him.

“Don't forget the reason they died…”

Wilted, withered roses bloomed along the thorny vines whispering the terrible truth to him.

“They died loving you as a friend, family…they died trying to keep you safe from danger.”

Brutus tiredly looked up to see the ghost of Calix Crane sitting on his knees, an arrangement of red and burgundy wilting roses blooming from his left eye and heart as small thorny vines decorated the rest of him.

“Calix died giving his heart to you..and you never gave him yours…how sad..”

His eyes grew heavy with exhaustion already closing as there was no point in fighting back the closest thing to death.

Some say that falling asleep is just like dying…

Brutus wished it was death that took him.

He didn't know how much longer he could go on without his friends.

Without Calix.

He felt so alone.

So…

Worthless.

DROWN

Jonmartin week day 5: Good cows

@jonmartinweek

i think this one is my favorite so far :D if i ever stop drawing the scottish safehouse period you can assume I've been NotThem-ed

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

dude the suave siblings are so funny... euler walks in wearing a shirt that says "sorry i got into a weird situationship with the ghost of your shitty dad" and gets pelted with rocks immediately

GIGGLING AT THIS

run euler run you are going to die

[ other suaves are from @capturecharlesau @crown-of-roses-thsc @lumyious-studios ]

plus some reactions. perchance. ooc or not i dont think theyd be normal about this /silly

You're welcome :>

I'm also kinda curious whether Ellie dyes her hair or its natural red?

Fanart for @crown-of-roses-thsc ! Ellie Suave-Rose🌹🎩✨️

I hope it's okay😅🥲

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.