GWAHHH finally finished my parts of my & @tumblngkori‘s YOI fanzine! PDF should be available early next week. No print run. Will post relevant links and info when it’s up. It wound up being almost twice as many pages as we’d originally estimated, so the price will be a bit higher, but still under $10. Again, it’s for 18 and up only.
I think the realest of the INTP stereotypes is the one about our lack of motivation. Or procrastination. Or whatever you choose to call it. Seriously, why is it that I constantly have all these magnificent ideas dashing through my brain, but I can’t ever buckle down and actually complete a project?
Completion is never easy for me. I have to fight every step of the way, and it’s a bit depressing to look down and see all the abandoned projects all around me.
And then, even when other people might think that a thing is done, I’m never totally satisfied with it. I might even treat it like it’s finished, but, in my head, I could probably always think of something else to tweak.
This is probably why I’m so okay with not finishing things. If nothing ever really seems finished to me, then why should I bother pretending that it is?
Not that this is a great life philosophy or anything. But I think it’s the way a lot of INTPs naturally look at projects.
Request by @mr-robot-x : How would Jeff react when the reader dies in the accident instead of him. Clay and Justin support him.
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, i listened to soooo many sad songs while writing this and idek how many times i watched my baby Jeff’s death scene and cried. Two of my friends read this and they cried. WE NEED TO PROTECT MY BABY, HE IS TOO PURE FOR THIS CRUEL WORLD
Saturn - Sleeping at last
If I die young - The band perry (iconic song in my opinion)
My immortal - Evanescence
People help the people - Birdy
Moments - One Direction
The whole playlist for 13rw
It was never supposed to happen this way. It should have been me! If that stupid stop sign wasn’t down and if I wasn’t drunk maybe things wouldn’t have ended this way.
*flashback* Y/N POV
As you got ready for the first party of the year, settling on a black romper and flats, you get a text from Jeff.
”be there by 20:30 x”
As you finished doing your hair, you heard your parents and who you presumed to be Jeff. As you walked into the kitchen it was as if he could sense your presence because he turned to you and flashed you a smile that was reserved only for you. You stood next to him and he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. The drive to Jessica’s house was in a comfortable silence, with you humming to the tune of whatever song was on the radio and Jeff focusing on the road and having his hand resting on your leg.
You both stayed together for the duration of the party, as usual. You decided it was best that you not drink seeing that Jeff decided to play beer pong and someone will have to be the designated driver. You saw Clay and Hannah together and it looked like things were going well. Anyone could see that they liked each other if you paid enough attention. It seemed like the two were just waiting for the other to make the first move. Jeff was really doing a good deed by helping Clay, and from what you’ve heard, Hannah deserves happiness after everything the people at this school has put her through.
It was getting late, so you decided it be best that you and Jeff leave before he gets too drunk, knowing that he will regret it tomorrow morning. As you drove, Jeff filled the silence, “We should go for breakfast tomorrow”, he spoke. You smiled at him, “How about lunch? I don’t think your hangover is going to let you leave bed before 10″, you looked at him and laughed. But you were cut short by the sound of screeching tyres and crash, and everything suddenly went black.
You could hear a voice scream your name, no wait two voices. “y/n wake up, baby please just move, open your eyes. Do something so i know you’re okay please.” Jeff. “Jeff we have to get you out!” said the second voice. “NO! She needs to be okay Clay!” Clay, it’s Clay. You tried, you really tried to move but it was like you were stuck in cement. You wanted to just wrap your arms around Jeff and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That’s when you heard the sirens, the ambulance, Jeff still calling out your name. It pained you to hear him call and you not being able to do anything. It all sounded so distant, it sounded like it was happening miles away from the place you were. But what you heard next didn’t feel distant, it felt like it was being screamed into your ear. “Driver, female, late teens, time of death: 00:26.″
*present* Jeff’s POV
It’s been three days. Three days since I lost her. As I walk into school, everyone looks at me with sympathy and there’s road safety posters plastered everywhere. Are you fucking kidding me? “follow the rules of the road”, “road safety isn’t a joke.” Maybe if the fucking stop sign was up she would still be here.
“Jeff, wait up”
“I’m not gonna ask how you’re holding up, but you’re my friend and I need to know if you’re gonna be okay at school.”
“I don’t know anymore, there was this part of me hoping she would be there waiting at my locker like she usually does, standing there with open arms ready to tell me it was all a nightmare and that she wouldn’t leave me.”
“Hey listen, everything becomes too much, just tell me and we can put our lessons on hold.”
“No, no don’t do that. She believed in me Clay, she always believed I would would get my grades up and play again and I can at least do that for her.”
“Jeff you know I’m always gonna be here okay? Just don’t do anything you’ll regret, just talk to me okay?”
“yeah thanks Clay”
*2 months later*
She would be proud, y/n would be proud. I got my grades up and coach is going to let me play again. I just wish she was her to see this. “And now stepping up to the plate, Liberty High’s golden boy has returned, Jeff Atkins!”
As I walked onto the field I felt like everything was coming together. I took my position, ready to use all my built up anger and frustration and hit the ball. That’s when I heard it, I looked into the crowd to see where that voice came from but no one was there. I shook it off and got into position again, then there she was, the biggest smile and cheering me on from “her spot” in the crowd and i froze, the bat falling to my feet as i stood there staring at the place she would always stand during my games.
“Jeff! hey man what happened? you good?” someone said as they placed their hand on my shoulder, forcing me to move my gaze from the crowd. “She was there, I heard her voice and I thought I saw her Justin.” “Jeff she’s not there, I’m sorry.” “She was always at my games, she wouldn’t miss any of them. She was my lucky charm.” “Jeff there’s something you need to know about the night of the accident. I-uh Hannah said something after she died, but I can’t say anything. Sheri is the only one who can tell you what really happened that night….”
You could remember arriving to the party with Archie at
your side and you remembered the first shot of that cheap spiced rum that
Reggie had at the makeshift bar in his parent’s basement – but besides that all
you had were snippets.
on that note i should add that i finished watching korra and overall i loved it. i love politically driven stories so it was totally my thing.
honestly the entire show could’ve just been season 1 and i would have been totally satisfied. it would have been great just as a stand alone imo. season 2 was….not very good. it explained some lore and that shouldve been ¼th the length it actually was, the ending was just silly…attack of the 50 foot woman
3 and 4 felt like one megaseason. i loved the worldbuilding and extensive cast added in the second half of the show. the final battle could have maybe been a bit more ‘grande’, but i was still satisfied with what we got. overall the plot past season 1 was somewhat predictable but the characters compensate for it well
HOLY HELL, I LOVED THE CAST?? and so many women of all age/ethnicity/class together was so refreshing and so good??? i especially loved the beifong family dynamic. the male cast was great too, i did find the ongoing theme of male villains having strongly drawn jowls amusing., oh and that one airbender child was very grating i hated him.
the love triangle was jarring but at least it was a step above twilight’s, which is honestly what i was expecting going in. i thought it was gonna be both brothers competing for korra lmao but instead it was just mako consistently fucking up. so yeah i could live with it, it could be something to sympathize with if you were a young teen watching and have a mind full of confused feelings and drama like most teens do.. its pretty harmless and if anything it shows a good example of talking things out with an ex, the value of communicating in a relationship, and moving on from drama.
my favourite characters by the end were asami and kuvira, the latter i wish was set up a bit more in the 3rd season so we could have had bigger build up and character arc but oh well.
throughout the entire show my mind kept comparing it to fullmetal alchemist brotherhood.. did anybody else have that?? the political theme, time period, and the backgrounds, especially all the industrial stuff were reminiscent to me of fmab in a good way. by the end of it my roommate and i called korra a “combination of fmab and kung fu panda”, basically replace the science of alchemy with spirituality and martial arts and i think that description fits it sort of well
so yeah in conclusion i loved korra, its really good. it honestly tells a story of political movements and regimes much better than many ‘more dark’ live action movies and young adult dystopias. if you love politic themes, elements of fantasy, strange animals, female characters, and have a lot of hours to kill i recommend watching korra if you still haven’t.
I needed to force myself to finish any pic without leaving it as sketch or lineart. I just had to, because my motivation is so shit lately that I can’t start or finish anything bigger than warm up sketches. So there it is… I’m still getting used to my new tablet (a cintiq a literal angel gave me!!!) so it’ll be a lil bit longer before I continue working on the commissions, and I’m hoping to finish at least half of them by the time Echoes is released… So yep, that thing above is just a random doodle without drama and blood (booooring)
Every time I go to Home Depot I look at the sheds displayed in the parking lot and think, “I could live in that one”. And I mean, for size and price, it’s actually a plausible thing! It’d be a lot of work to finish and outfit it, wire it for electricity, do the plumbing, and I’d need another smaller shed for my beekeeping and canning stuff, but hey, it’s cheaper than a house. It’s got real stairs and eveything!
“The magical rod is the verendum of the magus; it must not even be mentioned in any clear and precise manner; no one should boast of its possession, nor should its consecration ever be transmitted except under the conditions of absolute discretion and confidence.” - Eliphas Levi, “Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie” (1856)
It is a matter of fact that properly making a wand is a pain in the ass. It is a rather long process, with lots of detailed steps, none of which can be skipped. It takes more than a month of near daily work, invariably leads to both accidental and purposeful blood spill, not to mention all the mess.
Having lived in London for over a decade I can assure you that there is no Ollivanders in which to purchase a finished wand. And while many many sticks that have been nicely polished, often having had some baubles attached to them, are for sale from a variety of vendors they are not in any practical way a wand.
A wand must be cut by the practitioner themselves directly from the tree, must be worked to shape by the practitioner’s hands, tooled by the practitioner’s blade. It is a very necessary tool in the arsenal of witch and wizard alike, found throughout history in the practice of magic.
On the whole its a bothersome process; messy, meticulous, exacting and often tiresome. But at each point where you would shirk the necessary steps it is only in reminding yourself that the tool you make may save your life that you push on, doing every little bit that is needed to make it as strong as possible. Because like a parachute your life may hang in the balance of your wand having been made in an exacting process that I would personally never trust to something I bought online or in a shop.
The length of the wand varies from culture to culture and use to use. I myself prefer a length that is the distance from one’s nose when looking straight ahead to the tip of one’s fingers. Approximately three feet long (four spans) though tailored exactly to the body of its owner. The perfect length for tracing a circle on the ground without bending over.
It so happens that I had long held off on making myself a second hazel wand, my first being in storage in the US and something I had used for decades - though not seen in years. In its stead I have been using a very nice rowan wand I constructed about a year after I arrived in London, which works for most situations and is particularly adept at landscape magics. But then there are some things for which only a hazel wand will do the job properly.
Unfortunately my original hazel, cut from a deep and old wood in the states when I was a young man, has gone missing. Its whereabouts are a mystery, though where it should have been among my library storage materials it was not. Thus I have been slowly getting around to replacing it, and some near future work that needs doing has required my starting in order to finish before the vernal equinox.
So while the blackbird sang me a song of predawn delight I cut the hazel and have begun the process. As it dries I will gather the bits I need, offerings and ointments for its preparation, and by the first day of spring it should be ready for a bit of that old black magic.