I Am Very Late, But, Like, I Need A Long Dumb Road 2. Please, Jason And Tony Have Such A Connection On

Dabi: What's up, guys? I'm back. The Todorokis: . . . tf??? Enji: What the—how? We saw your jaw. Dabi: yeah, I miss that thing Fuyumi & Natsuo: YOU DIED! Dabi: **shrugs** death is a social construct.

Saltburn was an experience.

Just thinking back to "Eyewitness" and the amount of patience Philip had, putting up with Lukas' dumbfuckery. But, seriously, I love Philip Shea's character.

"You're into me, that's what's happening."

— Philip Shea

A Motivational Ramble For Writers

I think most motivational speeches aren't necessarily motivational in the long run because unfortunately, they lack so many aspects of reality. Yes, of course hearing all the longggg metaphoricalllllll poems and forty different beautiful ways of phrasing 'you can do it' may be motivational for that day, maybe even the next week. Still, I don't at all think that's going to open your mind in a way that genuinely allows you to FEEL motivated.

So I'd like to maybe change that. Of course, my words are only as effective as you allow them to be, but I'm going to share narratives that have personally helped me. I'm aware everything doesn't work for everyone, but I truly hope this provides motivation.

To condense a righteous "my writing journey" monologue into a simple sentence, I've been a new author before just like every other, and yes I can definitely relate to what you go through before finding yourself—and the courage to put yourself out there.

For starters, I need you to ask yourself why you're afraid. Don't tell me you aren't, because I'm almost sure that's not true. And if I AM wrong, think back to the times you have been, and reflect on them.

The reason I say I'm almost sure that's not true… is simply that to be unmotivated, you need to have something holding you back. It's obviously not the sheer desire not to write, because if that were the case, you wouldn't be reading a writer's motivation post would you.

I think you're afraid of going against the grain. 

I think you're afraid that by going against the grain, you won't succeed in that genre.

I think you're afraid that if you do experiment with genres, you'll not gain an audience, or lose the audience you've already gained.

I'm quite aware it's not just easy to stop being afraid, but I'm going to put it bluntly. Stop being afraid. You need to plant that seed. Water it as slowly as you'd like, but plant it.

You as a new author will never in a million years get anywhere when you stick to one genre. Sure, people may shower you with compliments about your skills with it, but sometimes you need to throw away that comfort in validation, and open your mind to a bit of criticism—which in the writing world, is essential for growth. Don't tell me you aren't good at drama if you've never attempted it. Don't tell me you can't attempt it because you think you won't do well.

Did I like it when I was told my storytelling ability was not really put together to handle a romance? Absolutely not. Especially since I had WAY too much confidence at the time, because I surrounded myself in a criticism-free shelter. 

But anyway, no I didn't like that. But I'll tell you I didn't let it make me throw a piss fit and quit, I just sucked it up and moved on to the next genre, as I did with all the genres imaginable. I can now confidently say I suck at everything but psychological drama. And that's from a place of honesty, I'm at peace with that fact after…many trials and errors haha.

So in the most loving way possible, author to author, e-friend to e-friend even though we probably have never spoken… suck it up, and grow from what you had to soak in. 

Quit letting inevitable criticism get you down, and stop being afraid of possibly receiving it. Especially if you're a fresh new writer. I know it's hard to hear stuff like that, but as you haven't yet allowed yourself the time to experiment, it's important to take criticism a little more seriously than you would when you've been writing for a while. Don't let it make you put your story down, or let it give you depressive writers block.

My first-ever critic meant to be somewhat-insult was "You think you're all that because you know how to use metaphors, but this is really just a heap of just that. Metaphors. There's no story here whatsoever."

Yes, I vividly remember that because wooooo did it piss me off. But you know what? I look back and wish I could hug that person because reading my old work, that was true. But once again, I used that anger to reverse that curse. And even sometimes I find it still rings true, but I'll continue to work on it.

So authors, get angry. Get STEAMING. Get PISSED. But in the midst of that, you need to have the hunger to prevail. If you're just sitting behind your screen angry steaming and pissed, that person won for the reason they all along had. To make you quit. Yeah, sadly people get off on that. It's unfortunate that some criticism will be rude especially when people have the convenience of hiding behind a screen—but it's reality.

YOU NEED TO WIN by using that as fuel to NOT QUIT, BUT SUCCEED. Because just like me, you'll probably find that early-on criticism was almost always true. They could have worded it…nicer, but it usually rings true.

So now, I want you to remember every insult you've ever received if you can. Let it brew…let it make you want to succeed, and not quit.

Writing…is a learning process.

You never stop learning, so drop that mindset if you have it. Criticism isn't always meant to be malicious, so drop that mindset if you have it. You aren't this writer against the mean, cold world because someone pointed out imagery isn't your strong suit, drop that mindset if you have it.

People want to help more than tear down, mostly. I do, anyway. Obviously you have your trolls in any environment…but lots of people mean to help, and when you have hostility against criticism—you'll automatically take it negatively.

So anyway, I hope this has been slightly more motivational than the general YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MIND TO DRINK WATER rants.

Because one more piece of advice, that's a lie. If you aren't good at romance you just aren't, that's alright. Put your energy into the genre that you ARE good at. You can't force it. So get to experimenting, stop being afraid, you will find your niche. If your audience leaves because you're doing essential experiments, I wouldn't bat an eye over those toads. You'll find a new and solid one. It's a process.

Get to writing, I believe in you.

Tony Revolori

An Atrocity of a Piece

In the silence of the night,

With all the stars shining bright,

The silken sheets encirling my pale skin,

Fiery ginger hair was all that was to be seen.

I close my eyes to dream,

And see your bright blue eyes gleam;

Your haunting makes me frown,

The sunlight behind you like a crown.

I despise the way you beleaguer me,

Holding me in captivity;

With unrealistic fantasies,

Of what could-be's .

It makes me despise you,

The way I want it so badly to be true;

But alas, it is one of the many could-be-nots,

And I will weep in my head full of thoughts.

Thoughts, and fantasies, and imaginations,

Of us and our destinations,

Of domestic bliss

Sealed with a passionate kiss.

Yes, I despise you,

None else could be as true.

For in you, I see a fanatical future,

For you, I become a delusional creature.

Almost driven to madness like my aunt,

While you glower and frown and taunt

At all my sneers and jeers and leers,

My affections become clear to I through the years.

I can only wish that to you, it is as clear,

Yet the fact it is not shall abate my fear,

As knowing will surely be a recipe for grief,

For who, I do not know and it is a relief.

For I despise you,

And I love you.

And such is forbidden for us two,

So I can only dream of your eyes so blue.

THEY KILLED HIM!?!?! THEY KILLED LAWRENCE!!! AFTER THEY MURDERED AMBER

I'm pretty.

That's what they tell me. People like me, they like my face. They say I'm beautiful. But it is as they say: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Those are not my eyes.

For when I see myself, I see a horrendous amalgamation. I stare into my reflection and I see the rot of a hateful person. I always wonder how people can see beauty in that face. The fat in my cheeks, the uncanniness of my face, the creepiness of my big eyes, my oily nose, my big chapped lips, my cheeks filled with imperfection. I don't have awful break outs, I don't have awful acne.

I can say I'm thankful for that.

But sometimes, there would be a too red spot in my cheek, or a red dot accompanied by two others. Sometimes my pores look too big. My lips, chapped and dry and ugly as I am on the inside.

They say I'm pretty.

I say thank you, but I don't see it.

I know what lies beneath that deceptive beauty that I cannot see. What lies underneath is hideous, repugnant person whose heart is filled with hatred that it drips out of every pore on her skin, rotting her teeth, wrinkling her skin, greying her hair. Her hatred so abundant that it fats her up.

She's ugly.

I'm ugly.

Why can no one see that?

The ugliness she harbors, why can no see that!?

Pretty? Is this what beauty is? The cruel, violent, angry thoughts that floods her mind constantly until she hallows herself out with how deep she buries her hatred and her anger and her emotions; she buries it so deeply that she digs the hole to the other side of her and it drips out for the entire world to see.

I can't see that "pretty" that they speak of. How can they say I'm pretty? When I lash out, when I speak with vitriol lining my every word, when I stare with swirling storms of vexation. What is pretty in my ugliness? What is beautiful about my hatred?

How can they see beauty in me, when all I see is every single negative thing to exist in the world in every piece of me?

They don't know me.

They are so blind as to who I am, to what I am, that they can see my being in rose. And I wish they will never take off those glasses. I cannot bear for them to see what lies beyond the rose hue of their view.

I'm pretty, they say.

It makes my skin crawl with disgust, my mind cloud with disbelief, yet it warms my heart, makes my stomach giddy. I am giddy. I am disgusted. I am an amalgamation of contrast, of duality. I smile, say thank you. While the monster that is my reflection stares at me, a constant reminder that I am an imposter of beauty.

I'm pretty, they say.

And I pray,

That in their eyes, it stays that way.

Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining

MJ: You often use humor to deflect trauma. Peter Parker: Thank you. MJ: I didn't say that was a good thing. Peter Parker: What I'm hearing is that you think I'm funny.