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stillarandom-radfem · 11 months

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This post is going to cause controversy here on radblr. I already know that, and I'm ready for it. But there is something that I've just got to get off my chest, here. It's been bugging me for a long time now, but for the longest time, I couldn't quite find the words to describe my feelings.

Here's the thing. It's not that female separatists are wrong, necessarily, with regard to their arguments about male violence. OSA women like myself are at a greater risk of interpersonal violence from men, intimate partner violence does make up the majority of domestic violence statistics, men are the most likely people to rape or murder us, and yes, living without men therefore probably would improve straight and bisexual women's lifespan/overall quality of life in most cases. BUT. The way many female separatists (who are most often lesbians) go about presenting their arguments is not only unnecessarily rude to women who have done nothing to deliberately harm them (and, when it includes such colorful monikers as "dick worshipper" and "cock rider" in it, reasonably comes off as an attack), but it includes many of the same tactics that homophobes use against LGB people to make their point. I'm sure that homophobes doing that stuff to you is hurtful, but I'm also at least 99% sure that heterosexual women who are radfems (or rad-adjacent, if you prefer) aren't the ones leveling those attacks, and don't therefore deserve to be responded to with such ferocity. Two wrongs do not, in this case, make a right. And it needs to stop.

For example, you ask?

Acting like heterosexual relationships must be purely sexual, with no actual love involved whatsoever.

I see LGB people complaining about homophobes doing this to them all the time. "You think our relationships inherently obscene or kinky because you can't picture us actually being in love; all you can think of is the sexual part! You think a sizable chunk of the population is incapable of love or human connection, and that is dehumanizing!" Yes, I have no doubt in my mind that it is. But then look at what you do when you try to call out heterosexual/bisexual women for being with men, and you are doing exactly the same thing to us. You talk about OSA relationships, and the first and, often, only thing you ever bring up is the sexual aspect of them. The word "love" almost never comes up. It's like it doesn't even occur to you that OSA women might actually fall in love with or have very deep romantic feelings for their male partners, not unlike you, as a lesbian, may have or have had towards any girlfriends you have ever dated, any women you have ever crushed on, or, if you're lucky, your wife. Now, do OSA women have sex with our boyfriends or husbands, if we have them? Of course we do! Have you ever had sex with your wife or girlfriend? Or, if you're single, would you, if you had one? Of course you would, and you know it! Does that negate your feelings for her, somehow? No? Your relationships are not purely sexual just because there is sex involved? Then why would you assume that sex being involved would make heterosexual relationships suddenly be only sexual? Also, news flash: vibrators exist. So do dildos. Or women (including het women) could just use their fingers or a pillow. There are many ways for a woman of any orientation to get off without a man if getting off is all that she's after. If she is choosing to be in an actual serious relationship with a man, it's most likely because she's in love with him. You are trying to convince her that there is something more important for her to consider, in spite of her feelings. So, perhaps instead of insinuating that she is some kind of sex-obsessed slut who is screwing over her entire sex deliberately for the sake of a few orgasms, you can start start there, instead.

Acting like other people's sexual orientations can be changed (not yours, of course, just, you know, everyone else's).

I see homophobes acting this way towards LGB people all the time, claiming that the sex(es) you are attracted to is a choice somehow, shaming you for preferring the "wrong" one (or the "wrong" one at the moment, if you're bi). Which, personally, has always struck me as kinda weird, because they never seem to apply the same logic to themselves. They never stop to suggest whether their own orientation is a choice or not. I guess it's pretty obvious why they won't, because then it comes down to two possibilities: if they are with strictly the opposite sex by choice, then it's very probable that they are actually bisexual, and behave as they do towards gay people due to internalized homophobia, whereas, if their strict opposite sex attraction is not a choice, then they have just admitted that their own orientation is innate, so why would they assume everyone else's not to be? It makes no sense. And incels will take it a step further, yelling slurs at lesbians for only wanting to have sex with other women instead of them. It's all pretty fucked up and illogical, and just for the record, I think you all deserve much better. Of course your sexuality isn't a choice. And yet... I mean, I can't even begin to count how many lesbian separatist blog posts I have read full of women acting as if heterosexuality is a choice. "Ew, moids are ugly, dicks are gross, what's wrong with you, why would you choose that?!" Newsflash, gyns: we didn't. That's just our sexual orientation, and we didn't choose it any more than you chose yours. We may still choose to be celibate in spite of our orientation, or, if we're bi, we might still decide to only date other women. But we will still always have the capacity to be physically attracted to/fall in love with men, and for those of us who are straight, we can only experience that with men exclusively. That's just the way it is. We can't control that; it's innate. Some of you, upon grappling with this fact, immediately jump straight to the incel way of doing things and begin slinging the aforementioned colorful monikers (ahem, sexualized anti-woman slurs aforementioned in this blog post) for only being attracted to men instead of you. It actually smacks of sexual harassment, and then you wonder why so many straight women stop following/won't follow you. Or, leap right into calling us lesbophobes because we don't want to take sexual harassment like that from anybody, man or woman alike. Call me crazy, but the last time I checked, a "lesbophobic woman" was a woman who hates lesbians for only being attracted to other woman, not a woman who simply refuses to date/sleep with you. What, you have a right to bodily autonomy, but straight/bisexual women don't?! And yeah, I know, I know. "Stop comparing us to incels! Lesbians aren't predatory!" Well, true, most of you are not. The vast, overwhelming majority of you are completely fine and normal. But I always give the side eye to any notion of an entire group of people (any people) being all perfect, pristine angels carte blanche (a scant few people in every large enough group are going to be creeps), and if a scant few of you don't want to be compared to incels... Well, then maybe you should stop behaving like them. Because, when you explicitly resort to their same tactics, even I get the ick off of a few of you, and I'm probably the least homophobic straight person I know. 🤨🤨🤨

They call you "c*rpet m*ncher", "qu**r", "f*g", "d*ke", etc., over your orientation. You then call women (who probably didn't even call you that!) "dick worshipper", "cock rider", etc., over ours.

Enough said. Do I even need to point out (again) that these are almost all just a bunch of sexualized, anti-woman slurs? Do you really think that this is going to bring women over to your side, as opposed to just driving them away? And do you actually think that your female separatist movement is going to have any kind of major societal effect if you would rather drive women away from it, rather than bringing them in? It won't have any impact that way; it will only die out. And, look, I don't think that homophobes should be treating you like that, either. They most definitely should not. I have no doubt that them slinging those slurs at you constantly over your sexual orientation (which you can't control) is extremely hurtful and probably even scary for you. You deserve so much better than that. But, again, last time I checked "lesbophobe" means someone who hates you for only being attracted to other women, not a woman who refuses to date/sleep with you, and, from what I can tell, radfems appear to be, by and large, very pro-gay. Even when we, ourselves, are not. So, it seems very unlikely to me that we're the ones calling you names like that (unless you can show me receipts or something, in which case, go ahead). Until that happens, it occurs to me that people of all sexual orientations are pointing fingers, accusing each other of being sex-obsessed perverts, and calling each other names because, idk, maybe the drama is more interesting to some people than minding their own business? Or they literally can't wrap their minds around being attracted to that sex, so they attack anyone who is? Idk, it all seems very juvenile, and I should think there would be better ways to tell someone that some aspect of their lifestyle is unhelpful to the movement and/or mentally unhealthy to them than merely resorting to often sexualized mudslinging attacks. Honestly, no matter what your views on female separatism or sexual orientation are, can we all just agree to a ceasefire on the relentless mudslinging on all sides?? Please??? This is middle school shit, and it's really getting annoying. Everyone. On both sides. You're like a pack of schoolyard bullies. Stop it.

Again, I'm not saying that female separatists' arguments against dating/sleeping with/marrying and/or having kids with men are entirely wrong. Male violence is a problem for a lot of women, and refusing to be in relationships with them probably would reduce it greatly. But acknowledging heterosexual and bisexual women as being capable of romantic love towards whichever sex(es) we are capable of experiencing attraction to, acknowledging all sexual orientations as something innate that can not be changed and not a choice, and refusing to resort to juvenile mudslinging attacks will not take away from those facts in any way. So, I guess I just don't see what the reasoning is for so many female separatists to refuse to even consider them?

#radfems please interact #radfems please touch #radfems do interact #radfem safe #proud radfem #proud radical feminist #female separatism #sexuality #lesbian #bisexual #heterosexual

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

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Mounjaro's Revenge: The Inevitable Adventures of Froggie, Chapter Unknown

I keep saying I can't leave the house without having some kind of adventure. And I really thought I was going to have a quick, uneventful doctor's visit with my monthly checkup this past Wednesday. I'd go in, they'd check the box Medicare requires every month, and I'd come straight home.

But adventure seeks me out. I can't seem to escape its grasp. And, yes, sometimes I like having adventures. They give me something to write about. And sometimes they are fun memories. But sometimes adventures just make me tired. And not all adventures are positive.

For the past 3 weeks I have been on the second dosage amount of Mounjaro. Unlike the Ozempic, I have had a few issues with side effects. Roughly 48 hours after my injection, I get sick to my stomach and feel pukey. It lasts for about two hours. I either vomit and lose the urge or I hold it in and it fades. I am then compelled to take a nap.

Considering the weight loss and glucose control, getting sick for an hour or two per week isn't a huge deal. There is a good chance I will get used to the medication as time goes on, but even if I don't, I am okay with this consequence.

My injection day was Tuesday, and based on past experience, I figured I'd have until Thursday morning before I got sick. The past 2 episodes happened at almost identical times, so I figured Wednesday wouldn't be a problem.

But right before my doctor's appointment I started feeling extremely... rough.

Optimistic for no good reason, I was hopeful I could get through the appointment before the urge to vomit arrived.

I get to the office and there are 3 patients ahead of me. This was not a good sign. My doctor tends to overbook and I was probably going to have a bit of a wait. I arrived in the middle of a lively conversation about where to get a good steak in St. Louis. I'm used to waiting rooms being full of quiet and bored people staring at their phones so when I opened the door it felt like the conversation smacked me in the face.

The cast of characters were as follows...

There was an older black man who had the spirit of a kindly grandpa. He seemed nice and wise and was enjoying the steak conversation. Let's call him, Old Guy.

There was an older white fellow who was anxious about the wait time due to having another appointment soon. He was on hold with the other doctor's office trying to delay his appointment time. He was only mildly interested in steak due to that distraction. I already used Old Guy, so... Anxious Guy.

And then there was the steak expert who was leading the conversation. Actually, leading is not strong enough. He was *dominating* the conversation. As I sat down and his visage entered my field of view, I was a bit taken aback.

Do you know how in Star Trek everyone has a mirror universe doppelganger who may look the same, but they usually have personality traits that are reversed?

They are often identified by arch overacting or a change in facial hair.

The steak expert was my mirror universe counterpart. He was of similar age, height, and weight. Same color hair and eyes. He even wore similar clothing.

But he had a goatee instead of a beard. *gasp*

And he wore... sandals. *double gasp*

He had clearly been in a recent transporter mishap.

I mean, I could *never* wear sandals. The world is not ready to handle my nude foot and I find very few sandals have the load-bearing capacity necessary for people my size. You are asking for foot pain if you are over 300 pounds and wearing sandals.

Mirror Froggie was very outgoing and personable, but he had trouble filtering what he said and was often obliviously rude. He clearly thought himself to be hilarious but struggled to make even kindly Old Guy chuckle.

Old Guy said, "I think Longhorn makes a decent steak for the money."

And then Mirror Me's unfiltered response... "Longhorn is shit. You shouldn't eat there. You are wasting your money on shit steak."

"I don't know, I've always enjoyed..."

"I'm telling you, friend, it is shit steak. End of story."

You could tell that made Old Guy feel bad for suggesting what he liked. But he brushed it off and asked for a better suggestion. Mirror Froggie confidently told him of a restaurant called "Sam's" that had "the best steak in town."

Old Guy proceeded to ask Siri to look up Sam's and it took a few tries. He reminded me of my dad fighting with the iPhone and repeating things over and over with increasing volume. I think Old Guy wasn't specific enough as he got the wholesale club on the first few attempts. Finally he said, "SAMMM'S STEAKHOUSSSSE" and found success. Old Guy saw the reviews and some of them were... not great.

But Mirror Froggie was like, "You can't read reviews. They're all liars." And I was questioning why people would take the time to lie about a small St. Louis steakhouse, but whatever. He then said it was because the restaurant was in disrepair and needed new plumbing, but that's why they could sell such amazing steak at reasonable prices.

Theories are less logical in the Mirror Universe. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anxious Guy got off his phone call and cursed into the void. He missed his other appointment. He interjected with, "Is that Sam's place expensive?" And that sent Mirror Froggie into a long diatribe about the price of meat at different places and his annoyance at steak-related inflation. Soon after, Anxious Guy finally got in to see the doctor. Old Guy was keeping Mirror Froggie busy with conversation, so I just closed my eyes and rested as they discussed the price of oversized shrimp "as big as your fist". I guess they ran out of things to say about steak.

As they were talking I started to get a spidey-sense about Mirror Froggie.

He *needed* conversation.

He *needed* distraction.

His boredom abhors a vacuum.

Whenever there was a lull or silent moment, I could see him getting very antsy. And if Old Guy got called in before Mirror Froggie... I was going to have a problem.

I was feeling sicker by the moment and did not have the bandwidth to help some stranger with his inability to accept boredom.

And... Old Guy was next.

Because, of course he was.

I feel like sitting there with my eyes closed and also not having said a word the entire time was a pretty decent social cue that I was not interested in talking. But Mirror Me decided to poke that notion with a stick in order to find a way in.

He speaks barely above a whisper, "I wish I could sleep in a public waiting room. Not sure how you do that."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. Nothing contagious, just very tired."

"Well, if you're sick, I guess you're in the right place, am I right? *long pause* Cuz we're next to a hospital. *short pause* Right?"

Oh great, he's a joke explainer.

Mirror Froggie did not care about my desire to sit in peace while I waited. His foot was anxiously a-tappin' and he was vibrating with energy that needed someplace to go. He tried standing up and walking in circles. And I guess because my eyes were shut he decided to narrate his walking and stretching to keep me informed. That satisfied him for roughly 20 seconds. He sat back down and was clearly struggling to be alone with his own thoughts.

"Hey, friend."

I open my eyes slowly.

"Do you see that magazine next to you? Would you mind handing that to me?"

I thought, "This is good. He's seeking out an alternate source of stimulation. He can read the magazine and I can rest until my turn."

Seriously, brain... where is this optimism coming from? I've been a cynical misanthrope for like 4 years now.

He flips through a few pages. "Look at this. It's got Oprah on the cover. It's got to be good, right? They don't put Oprah on the cover unless it is good, ya know? Though she doesn't look right after losing all that weight. You know what I mean, friend?"

Well, shit.

I didn't give him a distraction, I gave him a conversation starter. Still, I kept my eyes closed in the hopes he would give up.

"Hey, friend."

Crap.

"You want to hear a joke?"

I open my eyes. I'm not getting out of this.

"Sure." as unenthusiastically as I can manage.

He proceeds to tell three jokes all strung together. All of them terrible and none of them coherent enough for me to remember. I gave him complimentary singular chuckles even though two of the punchlines didn't make sense. I think one was about accidentally eating cat food.

"Hey, friend... how'd you like my jokes?"

I jokingly replied back, "Well, you said *a* joke and that was *three* jokes. That wasn't what I agreed to."

He chuckles and I close my eyes again.

"Hey, friend."

Jesus Christ, would someone jingle their keys for this dude?

"Do you want to hear a 'locker room' joke?"

Oh fuck me.

"I... guess?"

There was no way out of this aside from unpleasant confrontation and my energy calculation of that was much higher than just suffering through a dirty joke.

Here it is, as best as I can remember...

"So there is a pirate ship. And the captain has a beautiful daughter who has come aboard. He tells her that the crew hasn't seen a woman in a long time and they aren't safe to be around, so she should keep a razor blade 'down there.' After the voyage he assembles all of his men and instructs them to pull down their pants. Every one of them has had their dick cut off... except for one. The captain goes up to the only one with their dick intact and says, 'Thank you for not deflowering my only daughter. You should be commended for your restraint. And as a reward, I will make you my first mate.'"

I literally cannot type the punchline because it was an unintelligible noise. Basically, Mirror Froggie imitated someone without a tongue trying to speak.

Yeah. That happened.

I could not hide my disdain for this joke and I was feeling too awful to muster up any kind of response. He seemed confused by the absence of laughter from his wonderful rapey body mutilation joke.

"You get it, friend? He lost his tongue because he ate her pussy."

Yes, explaining the joke always helps... friend.

In whatever the opposite of the nick of time is, moments after this stranger said "ate her pussy"... the nurse calls Mirror Froggie in for his appointment.

I would feel relieved, but the Mounjaro side effects were getting worse and the urge to lose the remaining nutritional value from last night's dinner was increasing by the moment. I was next in line, so I was hoping Mirror Froggie didn't take up too much of the doctor's time with horrible "locker room" jokes and dubious steakhouse suggestions.

Roughly 5 minutes later the nurse calls me in to get my vitals. She weighs me and I am down another 3 pounds. That reminded me of why I was suffering this tummy tantrum. My blood pressure was perfect but my pulse was quite high. I was very anxious holding in my stomach contents and I tried to explain, but she asked me to try and relax to lower my heart rate. We compromised when I got it down to 107.

The nurse keeps forgetting that I don't really have a family anymore. And I know she has a lot of patients in and out and they probably all blend together. But she always ends up asking me questions that require me to remind her my parents are dead.

"Did your mom put up the Christmas tree yet?"

I went with, "No tree this year. Too much work."

"Aw, that's too bad. I actually got mine up early this year. You gotta put up a tree for Christmas."

Thankfully her job was done at this point and she abruptly ended the conversation.

Next up, the pee guy.

He has never actually told me what his name is so that is just what I call him in my head.

Every month I have to sacrifice my urine to the gods of Medicare so they know I am taking my meds and not selling them on the mean streets of Spanish Lake. And the pee guy always comes in to collect my sample. The little cup is kept in a white paper bag for discretion. He used to just give you a clear ziplock, and that was a little embarrassing, as everyone in the waiting room could see your pee. I definitely prefer the new white paper bag system.

It could be my lunch or some cookies or a bunch of peanuts.

Who is to know?

The pee guy is a bit of a talker as well. But the nice thing about his conversational style is that you can't get in a word edgewise. If he asks you a question, he'll even answer it for you. This requires very little effort on my part.

"Hey there, Mr. Benjermin!"

(I have noticed Ben-jer-min is a common pronunciation among Black folks in the area. Not sure if that is just a St. Louis thing or not. Perhaps I have a dialectologist follower who knows.)

I wave hello.

"How's it going, Mr. Benjermin!? Good? Good. Just gotta get your sample. Still taking the same meds? (I nod yes.) Okay, just need you to sign here. New Year's is coming up. Gotta be careful not to party too hard. You'll be regretting that. Though you don't look like a drinker to me. (I nod no.) Yeah, you're a good one. You keep it clean. Okay then, Mr. Benjermin. You're all set. Here is your new sample cup for next time."

He replaces my white paper bag with a new white paper bag and leaves the room without me saying a word. And I'm just realizing he asks me if I am a drinker quite a lot. He must sense my teetotaler spirit or something because he always assumes (correctly) that I don't drink. He's just really concerned about me partying too hard.

Finally the doctor comes in.

My doctor is kind, compassionate, and competent. The almost 3 Cs. But he's got a touch of what I call "Boomer-itis." He's on the progressive side of most things but there are a few ingrained sensibilities from that generation he didn't escape. It's mostly harmless. Though he said something sexist in front of a nurse practitioner student during my last visit that made her roll her eyes behind him.

He greets me and I tell him I'm not feeling well from the Mounjaro and that I am still recovering from my trip to Florida. He tells me that a lot of people can get sick for days from these new drugs, so getting sick for an hour or two isn't so bad. I agree, though I really wish I had not gotten sick at the exact time of this appointment. I keep eyeballing the trash can in the corner just in case things go sideways in my tummy.

He asks about my trip to Florida and I predicted that—as I already had photos ready to go on my phone. I scroll through them, showing off amazing cityscapes and mountainous clouds and an orange sunset over a lake—hoping to impress him with my photography skills to no avail. And then he sees Katrina. Now, I am not blind to her attractiveness, but I do sometimes forget how people respond when they see her next to me.

"Oh, wow. She's beautiful!" he exclaims.

I almost felt flattered on her behalf. But then his Boomer-itis starts to kick in. And he repeats, "Yeah, she's *really* beautiful. Just a friend, you said?" His facial expression and tone of voice are like, "You poor thing, you have been friendzone'd." And probably a touch of, "She's out of your league, buddy." I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is this familiar look of pity and worry. This is usually followed up with a probing question trying to figure out what our "deal" is. Why is it so odd to that generation that a man and woman can earnestly be just friends and perfectly content with that arrangement?

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just say, "She's gay" and that she isn't "out of my league" as she plays an entirely different sport. (Competitive Subaru Ownership?) But my friendship with Katrina is not some consolation prize due to her queerness. I shouldn't have to explain or justify why I'm "just friends" or why I'm not "being led on."

In a worried tone, "So, umm, how'd you two meet?"

There it is.

"She is an artist. I posted some of her work on my website and it was very popular and helped people find her work. She messaged me to say thank you and we were instant friends. 10 years later she's my best friend and very much like family."

Thankfully his pity face evaporated and he finally saw how long-lasting and meaningful this friendship was. But it is a weirdly common obstacle I have noticed whenever people see a fat guy has a conventionally attractive friend.

Friends are great. Friends have been more supportive and beneficial to me than any romantic entanglement I've ever had.

All of my friends are hot and queer and that's awesome.

Note to self: Put that on a t-shirt.

Knowing how difficult it was, he congratulated me on surviving the trip and we wrapped up our appointment quickly. All I have left to do is check in with his assistant, get my prescriptions sent in, and make my next appointment. I can see the finish line, but my tummy is rumbling and I am making contingency plans for the Great Upchuck of 2023™. I'm clocking trashcans with plastic liners. I'm trying to remember where the nearest restroom is. And then I look down at the little white paper bag containing my urine sample cup and think, "Last resort."

Trinica (the competence ninja and my favorite person in the office) is processing my meds and searching the calendar for next month's visit. Shelly is keeping quiet and working on her computer. I start pacing back and forth. I'm not sure what I think that will do, but I think desperation is taking over at this point.

Shelly sees me and asks, "How's that whole disability situation going for you?" She is acting like my best friend now after cursing at me on the phone. I have a feeling she had an unpleasant conversation with my doctor after that episode because she isn't this sweet and nice to anyone.

I give her the update, "Everything is submitted. My lawyer is happy with all of the records we were able to find. It's just a waiting game now. It could be a couple of months but if I have to see a judge it could be over a year."

She commiserates with me about how slow the process can be.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, Mirror Froggie reappears in the little sliding reception window like a jumpscare in a horror movie.

Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?

"Hey Trinica, do you have a business card for the doctor? I want to recommend him to Doug."

Who the fuck is Doug? Are we supposed to know Doug? Is Doug the tongueless pussy-eating pirate who needs medical attention?

Trinica looks in her desk and is unable to find a spare card. So she stops processing my stuff and starts hunting around the office. She has a bad leg so she is slowly limping while searching every desk. I have never wanted to strangle anyone before, but my doppeldouche was really pushing his luck.

At this point I am just staring at the little trash can in the blood-draw room. I can feel the scrambled eggs reversing course through my digestive system.

Trinica finds a fucking card for fucking Doug and fucking Mirror Froggie finally fucks off to bother people that are not me.

Trinica gets me all sorted, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and make to the car.

I sit in the driver's seat, and with that unearned optimism, say to myself, "I made it."

For all of you who are squeamish about bodily fluids, you can just pretend this is where the story ends. Everything was fine. I made it home and was happy and comfortable and nothing gross happened. The nausea faded away and I lived happily ever after.

The End.

Thank you for reading this and have a lovely day.

Just scroll on by to the next post!

Okay, so you all probably thought I was foreshadowing a monumental barf.

But foreshadowing is typically subtle. You don't want to give away the ending. Of course this was going to end in barf. The barfing was inevitable. The barf was not what I was *actually* foreshadowing at all.

Did anyone catch what it was?

You know that discrete white paper bag?

The one that could be for peanuts or maybe a sammich and definitely not my urine sample cup?

The last resort?

Look, it's all I had.

I was not going to make it home. I was not going to make it back into the bathroom. No trash bins on the horizon. Nothing in my car.

At first it was just an itty bitty baby barf. A perfect amount to be contained in a flimsy paper bag. I felt a relief wash over me.

"That's all?" still being stupidly optimistic.

But then I made that noise.

That... pre-retch noise.

That one where your head kinda juts forward and your lips make a giant O shape and you make a very specific grunting sound. That sound where if another person hears it, they involuntarily make the same specific grunting sound.

This was when I had one of those movie moments when a character knows they are about to die and they can't do anything about it. And I made this exact face as I waited for the impending doom of a vomitous explosion.

The Great Upchuck of 2023™ commenced.

And it was... intense.

Everything inside my stomach transferred rapidly, furiously, projectile-ly into the bag of foreshadowing.

I mean, I'm pretty much convinced my stomach is a TARDIS because I do not remember ingesting that much food. This sheer volume of barf had to be coming from another dimensional plane.

I could see it staining the sides of the bag as it was clearly not meant for this. When I finished it was barely intact—soggy, if you will. When I was absolutely sure I had ralph'd to completion, my only option was to gently place it on the passenger's side floor (sans floor mats). All I needed was for it to last 5 more minutes on the trip home and then I could dispose of it and pretend this never happened.

Physically I felt such a relief. Sometimes there is this post-puke euphoria where you just feel, well... lighter. Unburdened with no longer having that feeling. Happy it is over with.

I place the key in the ignition and head for home. As I'm driving I can't help but stare at the bag. I can see it mocking me as it changes colors. The exterior was getting... damp. If this were someone else's vomit, I would have been vomiting because of it. Just... so gross.

I get home and park the car. I walk around to the passenger side to begin the extraction process. I pull the trash can close and I have to psych myself up to deal with this horrible hurling happenstance.

And this next part, well... it would be hilarious if it weren't so damned disgusting.

I stare at the bag.

The bag stares back at me.

I take a deep breath and approach the bag.

The bag grins at me.

I gingerly grasp the very tippy-top in an effort to not touch any of the offending material.

I slowly lift up the bag.

And the very instant it reaches just enough height to do the most damage...

The bottom falls out.

If the bag had broken just as I was picking it up, the carnage would have been minimal. Only a small area to clean up. But clearly this bag read the Wikipedia page on air burst nuclear weapons. It knew you get a much more devastating blast radius if you detonate from an elevated position.

A TARDIS worth of partially digested scrambled eggs just pour and splatter and spray onto the floor of my car. It looked like the bag was puking out my puke.

The bag is now dead but I can feel its ghost laughing at me.

I stand there frozen holding the top of this evil deceased white paper bag trying and failing to process what just happened.

I realize I have no idea what to do with this situation. This is something that would usually be followed with, "MOoooOOOoooommmmm! How do I clean up vomit?"

And she would say, "You'll never do it right. I'll clean it up."

And I'd pretend to be like, "Oh no, it's my mess. I could never let you do that for me."

And she'd insist and break out her endless supply of very specific cleaning potions and magics and soon it would be as if the vomit didn't even exist.

So, I guess my question is... do I have to get my car detailed now?

The Actual End.

#long post #the inevitable adventures of froggie #trigger warning #vomit mention #rape mention

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menhera-info-archieve · 4 months

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Styling Menhera more "Masculinely"

Recently I've seen more interest in how to wear menhera and related styles if you typically present more masculine, so I'd like to address that today. This post will sort of be a continuation of this ask, but instead of discussing particular brands we'll focus on how to style your coords to have a more masculine feel to them.

Firstly though, a disclaimer: this post is not a set of rules to be followed, nor a statement on what men/masc people should or shouldn't wear. It's simply a list of ideas that might help if you want to present more traditionally (?) masculine for whatever reason. I think part of the appeal of menhera is nonconformity and NOT trying to fit into what society expects, so please don't misinterpret this post as trying to tell you what to do!

With that out of the way, it's worth noting that the tops you wear will largely be the same. Of course, avoiding tops with a large amount of bows, frills, etc also helps, but other than that I believe that most tops can be styled in a masculine way. So like in any menhera coord you'll have a top wth vent art on it. Often it will be oversized, but a regular fit is also okay.

sources: 1, 2, 3

I would say the biggest difference between feminine menhera styling and masculine menhera styling is the bottoms (and the impact this has on the overall silhouette). Where a feminine silhouette often uses short shorts/skirts/bloomers with OTKs and/or legwarmers, you’ll have an easier time going for a masculine look with longer shorts, joggers, other comfortable straight leg pants, or even jeans.

sources: 1, 2

The silhouette will change a lot depending on what type of bottom you choose. Experiment with whether you prefer an overall baggy look (baggy sweatpants with an oversize top) or a contrasting baggy top with a (comparatively) tighter straight leg bottom.

sources: 1, 2

While it's not necessary, some brands also make menhera print joggers/sweatpants if you feel left out of extra prints via OTKs. The ones pictured below are by SoftNGloomStyle on etsy

source: 1

here are a few more examples of different outfits using the same/similar tops.

sources: 1, 2

source: 1

You'll notice that I've mostly been using yamikawaii (dark color) examples. This is because it's a bit harder to make yumekawaii/pastels feel masculine. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try though!

source: 1

Regardless of how you feel about Ezaki Bisuko, he provides us good examples of pastels in a masculine silhouette (I don't think I've ever seen anyone else do menhera polo shirts before? But this could be replicated with a button up!)

source: 1

The pastels are more subtle on this one, but it still felt worth showing. Despite using a few more "feminine" accessories, this person balanced their outfit with the bottoms and layering for a more genderless feel.

source: 1

Including this one to show something a little different: this features a male seifuku top! Just to remind you not to feel like you can't mix elements.

Finally, the last thing I'll talk about is accessories. Most menhera coords should only have a couple accessories and I would say this goes doubly so if you're trying to present masculinely. Keep accessories few and impactful.

One accessory I feel is overlooked in menhera is hats! If you're avoiding hair accessories and bows, hats are a good way to tie together an outfit as well.

sources: 1, 2

hats should be a fairly accessible option as well because

redbubble semi recently started printing on hats, so many menhera designs can be put on them

they can be diy-ed by purchasing a fitting patch or pin and adding them on

you could go even further by making your own design with fabric marker/embroidery/etc. because of the size, hats are probably an easier project than making a shirt design this way

to briefly touch on other accessories: you can use most of them, but be cautious. Overall most masculine coords I have seen use much more simple types of jewelry on their necklaces/bracelets/chokers/etc such as leather, chord, and metal and don't often feature large or elaborate decorations. Still, feel free to experiment with what works!

#menhera #fashion #op #long post #I hope this makes sense #or at the very least that compiling the images can be helpful to people #menhera.txt

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featherwingfae · 3 months

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So the nonhuman theme of the day that I've been seeing on the Internet seems to be self doubt both due to internal and external influences.

My response to this theme is this. You are who you are. And no one can tell you who you are but you. (The rest of the post is pretty much just this^^ in way more detail than necessary. You have been warned lol. Buckle up this is gonna be a long one. Literally took all day to write 😅)

Most of us live in a society where we've been told since infancy who we are are and what we must be, and if we don't fit in the predesignated boxes then there must be something wrong with us and we just need to be forced into a box. But just think about the vastness of life for a second. From macro to micro there's just so much to everything it's breathtaking. Everything is layered. Why should one being's existence be any different. There is what is seen and then there is everything else. Some thing's don't need to be understood by others, because they are not there for others. They are simply there. Wether we understand them or not. And that in itself (I think) is quite lovely.

I am Fae. Not just because of ______. I am Fae because it is simply what I am. It's what feels right.

It's ok to just exist. It's ok to live without ever fitting into boxes or labels. And if you find a label or box that fits you, that's ok too. It's your existence. Do what makes you happy. I've also found that sometimes, finding that feeling that you fit somewhere, comes first and the reasons why come after. Be patient. I know it's maddening sometimes when you've got a million questions bumping about in your head, or even just one or two burning ones, but life is a journey. A mystery to uncover through experiences.

I could give you a whole laundry list of reasons why I can call myself Fae. But at the end of the day, the only reason I need is that it feels right. I don't need to act like the stereotypical Fae (from folklore, media etc), I don't need to have magical experiences, I don't need memories. Keep in mind that your nonhuman identity does not need to match anyone else's.

If you're a Fae who loves technology and finds the modern age fascinating. Guess what? There's nothing wrong with that. (I LOVE Minecraft 😁 Though that may or may not have to do with the fact that I get to fly around and build whatever I want from nothing. Yes I'm obsessed with creative mode 😅 I usually get bored in survival)

If you're a Therian who's never enjoyed being on all fours or who doesn't like gear. It doesn't make you any less Therian. Do what makes you happy 😊.

If you're some ancient entity and you use an ungodly (hehe) amount of emojis and/or abbreviations (ex. Lol, omg, etc) it doesn't make you any less ancient or awesome. Do what you enjoy. You are too old to not be having as much fun as you can experience. I'm also an ancient creature, you really think I want to spend my time not doing what makes the happy chemicals 😊✨👁️🪽😁.

If you're an Alien who's not obsessed with space stuff. That's ok. Human portrayals probably don't do it justice anyway, and there's so many other things to be interested in. Like have you seen mushrooms? Those funky little guys come in so many varieties it's absolutely delightful 😊🍄✨.

If you're a vampire who can't stand the sight of blood. Don't worry about it. I can almost guarantee you're not alone (plus there's a lot of different types of vampires. If you know you are/were definitely sanguine then you're still valid 😊).

If you're fictionkin and you're absolutely nothing like your fictionkin type/character. That's ok 😊. People often change with their experiences, it doesn't make you any less yourself.

That last one applies to most nonhumans identities in general honestly 😅.

If you're an angel that doesn't/didn't have big feathery wings. You are still an angel. The universe is filled with too much color and variety for me to believe that all ______ have the same or very similar designs. I've never heard of an angel with dragonfly or beetle wings. That doesn't mean they don't exist 🙃.

You can be a plant who loves salads, a placekin who hates going outside, an objectkin that doesn't use it/it's pronouns or is super expressive, a vampire who adores sunbathing or just sunlight in general, a carnivore that doesn't like meat, an avian that's afraid of flying or heights, a demon with a heart of gold, a deity with social anxiety and/or low self esteem, an herbivore that loves going hunting, a dragon who prefers minimalism, an aquatic creature who doesn't like water, a void that's constantly overthinking, you can match all the known stereotypes for your nonhuman identity or none at all. You can have phantom shifts constantly or never get any, you can have countless identities, you can have just one, you can remember your past life/lives in detail or remember nothing at all, you can believe in past lives and souls, or not, your identity can be psychological, physical, spiritual, etc.

It's s your identity. No one else's. Just because you choose to share yourself or your identity with someone else does not mean they own you or your identity. It is, was and always shall be, yours. (Btw please please please, be careful who you share your nonhuman identity with. Not everyone is going to "get it". And not everyone is going to accept it. Stay safe, mentally, physically, emotionally etc.)

They say names have power. They also say not all things are what they seem. Whatever your nonhuman identity looks like, only you can know what it truly is. Understand that I am not saying that the appearance of one's nonhuman identity should be dismissed altogether, especially when one is still questioning. I am saying, that we shouldn't rely solely upon appearances. If your nonhuman identity fits in the category of x as far as appearances go but x just doesn't feel like it fits, then chances are, you're not x, or there's more to it than just x. I've known I was Fae since right around 2019. However I doubted myself for a long time because as far as I knew Fae were "supposed to have insect wings" and on top of having big feathery wings, I have a lot of them. In fact many of my nonhuman features could be considered angelic. However I've never felt particularly comfortable identifying as an angel. It just never felt like the right fit. It took awhile but eventually after I'd already accepted that my "angelic features" didn't make me any less Fae. I remembered why I had those features to begin with, and it all just clicked into place.

It's ok to not have all the answers or even the correct answers right away. Life is experiences. From moment to moment you are who you are. Things may change, new truths may be revealed, that doesn't make you or your identity any less real. You are whoever you are right now. Wether that is someone/something from everything you have ever been or ever shall be or just one thing right now, unconnected to anything else. You are not fake for changing. You're not fake for not changing. Most have doubts about themselves about all sorts of things. To the point where it seems like doubt is just part of the human world experience (not saying it's only a human world experience, just that everyone here seems to doubt themselves about something or other) and perhaps working through our doubts is a lesson of this place, then again maybe not 🤷. In the end what you believe is up to you😊.

Now, I'm not expecting that this single post from a total stranger will erase all your doubts. Not at all. I didn't write it to erase doubt, but rather to give it a little bit of something to fight against. To plant just one more seed in the hearts and minds of others who might need it or whom it might help in any way. This post is far from the only one out there, fighting doubt in its many forms and faces. And what I've said has already been said in many times and ways. But it's my take and not everything will click with everyone. If this post helps even just one being, then it has served it's purpose. Each and every single one or plural of us is unique in our own ways. And I truly believe that's one of the most wonderful things about life as a whole.

If you've read this far, I apologize if I got a bit carried away and made this post longer than necessary but it means a great deal to me and things that matter to me are very difficult to "sum up" 😅. And if you follow me. I warn you now that most of my posts will probably be a bit lengthy if not extremely so.

And now my dear creatures, crawlers, beasts, beauties, hellions, heavenlies (no I don't care that that's not a word it is now lol), magicals, marvels, wonders, wanderers, wildlings, winged things, whimsies, and whatsits (and everything beyond and in between) I wish upon you a most wonderful day/night. May you always know/remember that your existence makes the world a more magical place. 🌍✨ (And in my opinion we could use all the magic we can get 😊)

👁️🪽✨🍄🍀🪻🌱🥀❄️🌟✨

Till next time.

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c-ptsdrecovery · 6 months

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I've been meaning to make this post for months, but I'm lazy :P

This year, I got diagnosed with bipolar 2, and going on mood stabilizers has been LIFE-CHANGING. (In the way they always told me going on antidepressants would be, only it wasn't.) I have discovered that I had a lot of (common) misconceptions about what bipolar disorder was like, which was why I struggled for at least 15 years with it and didn't get diagnosed until now. So I wanted to share a little bit about what I've learned about what bipolar disorder is REALLY like, in the hopes that other people in the same boat as me might recognize their own symptoms.

Disclaimers: I am not a mental health professional or an expert in bipolar disorder, and this is drawn from my personal experiences, which may be different from what another person with bipolar experiences.

--There are different levels of depression and of mania. Low mania, for instance, is called hypomania. While people with Bipolar 1 experience a range of emotions from mania to depression, people with Bipolar 2 experience mostly depression with occasional hypomania.

--People have a very extreme and stereotyped idea of what mania looks like, so it can be harder to recognize hypomania in particular. Things that mania/hypomania can look like:

anxiety

restlessness

insomnia

constant fidgeting

huge excitement or joy

intense creativity

intense sensory experience (colors are brighter, handsoap smells AMAZING, etc)

rage

less inhibited behavior

more spending

more risky behavior

feeling like you're finally yourself for the first time in years

--You will notice in that list that manic doesn't just mean happy. Mania is a high-energy state. That can mean high-energy happiness, high-energy anger, high-energy anxiety, etc. Depression is the low-energy side of the equation.

--You don't have to be JUST manic or JUST depressed. It's very common to have "mixed episodes" where you are both at one time. I was diagnosed years ago with "anxiety and depression"--and it turns out that that was probably actually a bipolar mixed state. A lot of people with classic depression talk about having no energy, having trouble getting out of bed, etc, but I always had the kind of depression where I felt despairing but also high-energy. I was restless and anxious--and sometimes had bursts of happiness and enjoyment in the middle and then went back to being depressed again.

--Bipolar can feel like mood swings. Your moods are intense and they can change quickly. I have had a psychiatrist tell me that you know it's bipolar when your mood changes for no reason. This may be true for some people, but for me, I could almost always attribute my mood change to SOMETHING. "I feel bad because of that thing somebody said to me" or "I feel bad because I'm lonely" or "I feel anxious because my stomach is upset". So that wasn't a helpful indicator for me, but the presence of the mood swings was. Some people also try to say that you have to be in a manic or depressive state for a certain number of days in order to qualify as bipolar--but if you're having mixed episodes like I was, all bets are off as to how long a mood is going to last.

--It's very common for people with bipolar disorder to have sleep problems: sleeping too much, sleeping too little, or both. I go right to sleep at bedtime, but then I wake up in the middle of the night, lie awake for an hour, and then go back to sleep. I have done this regularly for literally 15 years.

--A really good sign of having bipolar disorder is if trying a new antidepressant makes you manic/hypomanic. This doesn't always happen to people with bipolar disorder trying an antidepressant, but it certainly can.

My experience with antidepressants is that sometimes they seemed to work a bit for awhile, but in the long run, they really didn't work. One antidepressant that I tried made me FURIOUSLY ANGRY, so much so that it scared me and I had to get off the med after a week (the rage was a hypomanic state). One antidepressant that I tried made me so unbearably anxious that I took it ONCE and never again (that anxiety was also a hypomanic state). I took an antidepressant once that worked PERFECTLY for two months, and then suddenly stopped, and never worked again (happy hypomania, mood-swinging back to depressed again). What finally tipped us off that my problem was bipolar disorder was when I tried a new antidepressant and it made me feel AMAZING and then it wore off and I got super-depressed again... and then we raised the dose and I felt AMAZING and then it wore off, and... Meanwhile, I was happier than I had ever been before, I started a new hobby of collecting bonkers earrings, I started dressing in eye-burning rainbow colors, I was far more confident than I had ever been, I spent more (not way too much, but more) than usual... That is the kind of hypomanic/manic state that most people recognize as such, which is how I finally got diagnosed.

I will add on tomorrow or so with some stories about episodes that I recognize in retrospect were from my bipolar disorder, but I don't want to make this post longer than it already is! I will just add: If any of this sounds like you, I strongly encourage you to talk to a doctor about trying mood stabilizers. Maybe they won't do anything for you--but then at least you'll KNOW. I have a sneaking suspicion that just like C-PTSD is wildly underdiagnosed, bipolar disorder probably is, too.

#bipolar disorder #mental health #depression #anxiety #anger

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msfcatlover · 6 months

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Shadow Damian (Reverse Robins)

Shadow starts with Damian, and I am drawing huge inspiration from his Infinite Frontier design. In particular, this absolutely gorgeous rendition by DuhDude.

(I fucking love this look)

I'm also taking inspiration from @adoptedbybruciewayne's design, which just so happens to have a very similar silhouette.

As I've said before, I'm aiming for "sleek while still somewhat disguising his body outline." The goal is to make him a harder target to pin down.

Black tunic-vest, the part below the (utility) belt shaped mostly like the green design. Keep the puffy sleeves, though they're now also black & ever so slightly translucent; the under-suit is actually very dark grey, so you still can't really see his arms, it just does weird things to the shadows.

The hood is NOT part of the tunic, it's a separate cowl like this (sized similarly to the green design), held on by a single snap so that it never chokes him or holds him back if it gets grabbed.

No bandages, but the bottom half of his forearm does have a metal cuff for protection. Black gloves under dark red fingerless gloves, and the cuffs are the same red.

There is actually a single red stripe running down each arm like a ribbon between the cuffs/gloves & his shoulders, but I feel like if anyone drew it, those would be the first detail to go. In any case, those ribbon-lines sorta pour below the curve of his collarbones to merge into a red bat in front of a gold circle. (Referencing this chart, it's probably a combination of the "Batman: Dead End" & "Batman Beyond" designs.)

(Quickly thrown together in GIMP, though the colors seem to have gotten messed up... it should be redder.)

No domino; he wears a black half-mask/mouth-guard on the lower half of his face (kinda like the "muzzle" mask Jason's been wearing in recent years), and paints the remaining visible skin with grease paint to disguise his features (think Battinson, but it's the entire upper half of his face.)

The effect being Damian's mouth, jaw & nose covered, his face cast in shadow, his skin painted black, so there's no discernible features... just these two piercing green eyes staring at you from under the hood.

The pants are well-padded (same dark grey as the undersuit), and he has extra armor on his thighs, though a lot more in-line with modern sensibilities.

(This, but black.)

I also love Damian's knee-high lace-up boots, especially how they're drawn in "Son of Batman" where they are all the way to the knee, with a very de-emphasized kneepad. Practical? Probably not, but I don't really like how the protective cap they usually put over his knees change the shape of the boots. So he gets those, but black instead of green.

(It is weirdly hard to grab a good reference image for these; they never look as good on the covers, for some reason.)

So that's my... excruciatingly detailed explanation of Damian's Shadow costume. Look forward to future breakdowns of Damian's Nightwing costume, how future Shadows evolved the look, and basically every other costume in the family.

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geminineart · 1 year

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I've been watching all Pretty Cure seasons one by one for the last couple of years, and I always wanted to do some fan-redesigns, but never get the chance to! However, Star Twinkle has some of my favorite outfit designs (and some of the most wasted character design potential too…) so I couldn't miss this opportunity!

Cure Star's magical girl outfit is almost the same, but her civilian version has some tweaks here and there, because I like my human magicals having human colors before transformation! I also wanted her torso to be a little bit more square-shaped, but kept her general bodytype fairly thin, because I thought it fitted her personality and the way she moves!

Cure Milky was my favorite redesign of the group! Lala is beautiful, I think we all can agree on that, but I wanted to give her a full alien appearance (a cute one, yes, but alien after all)! So I took inspiration from the stereotypical green alien with slim bodies and huge head/eyes (probably inspired by that meme about Anime girls being aliens in disguise, too…) and made both her Magical girl and civilian versions too look like actual aliens! I also added a human disguise tho, so she can blend in with humans while staying with her friends on Earth!!!

Cure Soleil, the first (main) latina Pretty Cure!♥ This one's very meaningful to me for obvious reasons, and she's so beautiful in and out! The changes I did to her outfits were minimal, but I played around with her bodytype (It's true that we latinas are known to have curvier frames, so I wanted her to have a fuller figure that her og counterpart! ) and her hair texture, and her eye/hair colors. I still felt her blonde her was pretty iconic, tho… so I decided she has it dyed!

Last human Precure, Cure Selene! She has a pretty defined appearance, so I didn't had to do that much work with her, but she's a champion archer, so I tried to give her an inverted-triangle bodyshape, guessing she had some decently developed muscles in her back and arms! Also for her civilian appearance I decided to make her outfit more serious and her colors darker to make her look a little more… japanese! Hahaha ♥️

Cure Cosmos! ♥️ She has my favorite personality from the original group, but there were lots of little things from her design I wanted to change, including her keeping her original appearance when transforming, keeping her fur, hair and ears/tails, on the same hue, and some little tweaks to her Magical outfit! I also chose her human outfit based on some song cover from the show. She has her cat-ears and tail hidden under the puffy hat and blouse!

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blood-orange-juice · 5 months

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ok so ive never properly played genshin and don’t plan to but i know a bit about it’s lore and characters and i think it’s really neat. however i have thousands of hours on ffxiv. on that note please explain why graha and childe are similar. i only have very basic knowledge on childe and i gotta know

Fellow ffxiv enjoyer. <3

(anyone asking me about G'raha has a 100% chance of getting a wall of text and I'm not apologising for that. enjoy your wall of text)

I'm not entirely sure I'm not a case of a person with a hammer to whom everything resembles a nail, but I do think they are the same archetype.

Sweet characters who could have been perfect sidekicks (who still are perfect sidekicks) but listened to too many epic tales as kids and found themselves in a wrong place at a wrong time and now have to play a key role in some universe-changing story.

Both are defined mostly by their stubborness, they are not very suitable for the roles they've chosen and fail over and over again until they do it somewhat right (barely).

No matter how badass they look, their power is not their own, G'raha is a glorified technician of someone else's miracle and little else than a living key, Childe wields an art of old Khaenri'ah without fully understanding it. It's all borrowed from someone else who needed them to achieve a goal.

They do look badass, but mostly because they larp. I'm honestly not sure which one enjoys theatrics more.

Civilisations that created the magic they use specialised in perversion of the natural order of things. They try to use it in relatively noble ways and mostly hurt themselves but the flavour is there.

Both are unbelievably tragic and both somehow make their stories seem almost lighthearted. Complete absense of self-pity. I think that's what makes them both so charming, it's a rare trait.

Both have an incredible capacity for loyalty and love and an incredibly twisted view of what relationships look like. "I'll cross time and space for you, I'll die for you, I'll build a city for you, I'll live for you but please don't ask me to share my plans." "I'll sacrfice my own health and respect of my subordinates to keep my brother's happyness, probably my humanity too, but don't expect me to actually interact with him."

Both have something that looks like self-sacrificial tendencies bordering on suicidality while being, if we are honest, a self-serving trait (partially born out of low self-esteem but still self-serving). They want to live in an old myth and sacrificing oneself is a perfectly reasonable price for that.

Huge egos. And I mean Huge Egos. It's a bit less obvious in Graha's case but I know the type, you see guys like that in PhD programs a lot.

Huge dorks. Both of them.

Both are stuck somewhere between human and non-human and, hmm... their ability to remain human is the most astonishing quality of both. By all accounts, neither should have. They somehow did.

Both are incapable of lying to the point where a third of each fandom headcanons them as autistic. Both are somewhat all right with tricking people without technically lying (although Childe had more practice).

Both are secretive because no one would understand anyway.

FF XIV is a kinder story, so it's easy to overlook, but technically G'raha is a case of body horror, accepts the role of a villain for a while and hides from the player way too much. Hmmm... Where else have I seen it. Hmm. Oh right. That ginger guy from Genshin.

Minor things:

Both are little shits and enjoy annoying the hell out of people they dislike.

Abysmally bad fashion sense. There should be a name for this particular type and level of bad. I don't think I've seen this anywhere else.

And then there's the colour scheme. Red+black+white+blue and red+black+light grey+blue (it's an "anime magician" color profile, I think. black-red-white as alchemy colours + blue as pure magic/something elemental). Childe doesn't quite fit but still the combination is rare.

They way they talk. Dear gods. Who the hell talks like that.

Here's where the similarities end.

One is morally grey but ultimately a good guy (technically. I think the point of ShB was that Emet and G'raha are almost the same), another is a morally grey but still (kind of) a bad buy.

At every step of his story Graha is surrounded by people who love or at least appreciate him, Childe is pretty much on his own and surrounded by people who are either shitty or clueless.

G'raha is kind. Truly and astonishingly kind, in a doomed world he chooses to love everything he touches. Silly little priest of hope. Of all the things he has done this is the most wondrous, I think. Not the time travel, not the city he founded, just being able to remain kind after everything that happened to him.

Childe is... well, Childe. I think he is a deeply decent person (to the point of having a visceral distaste for any kind of unfairness) and he's idealistic but he's indifferent more than he is kind. Empathy usually develops only when someone has shown the person empathy first and, as far as we know, he didn't have much of that in his life.

Also G'raha builds things. Childe breaks things. Childe breaks pretty much everything he touches.

One is an archeologist and a mage and another is a warrior.

I think these differences are caused mostly by the settings they were put into. Childe raised in Sharlayan would have been a very different person. G'raha trained by a voidsent and shipped off to Garlean military would look very much like Childe.

G'raha also has a beautiful character development arc. I love his ShB role. He has this huge ego in the raids and is insufferable and then we see an older and wiser him with a bunch of actual achievements and a bad case of impostor syndrome (trying to do anything real always humbles a person, we all know that real world is held together by sticks and scotch tape. honestly, this change alone is beautiful). And he gets to be an actual hero when he abandons all hope to be Important and resigns to die as a nameless villain if it saves everyone and spares his loved ones from heartbreak.

Childe's character development is yet to happen and I'm not hoping for much but we'll see.

The only difference that definitely isn't created by setting is that G'raha is naturally manipulative. In a kind-hearted way and mostly for the sake of better larp but he isn't that straightforward. Childe is spectacularly blunt for all his mysteriousness.

As a bonus, they both compare main characters to stars, but in completely different ways.

"No doubt your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course," says G'raha to the WoL.

Childe mentions the morning star, which is, of course, pretty and a good companion to a lonely traveler, but also it's not a celestial body you can chart your course by.

It's a guy whose signature weapon is called "Polar Star" and his first artifact set was full of nautical themes, so I think he fully understands what he's saying. "You are my friend but I won't change anything in my life for you."

So I don't think his story will be anything like G'raha's, his life took a different turn very long ago. I do think they used to be similar as kids, bookish boys who dreamed of adventure and being special. So it's fun to compare.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. <3

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artist-issues · 2 months

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I know you have kind of commented on this topic in one of your posts, but what do you think of the fact that Tolkien hated Disney and thought of Walt as a "con-artist" (if I remember correctly) because of how much would be changed? Even though I very much love Disney movies, considering how Tolkien studied mythology, folklore and history from other cultures in-depth, particularly those of European background, I do understand why he was not fond Walt's work at all if we view it from his perspective. Other people seem to share a similar sentiment. I ask you because you often analyze Disney movies and their themes quite in-depth. This whole thing is interesting.

Well, I'll preface by saying I'm not much of a Tolkien apologist. I don't connect with him or his mentality as well as I might flatter myself by saying I do C.S. Lewis' mentality. C. S. Lewis had this beautiful way of blending genuine good-faith enjoyment of something and careful, intentional critical thinking. He could be a reasonable analyzer of media, and a childlike consumer of media, at the same time. Don't know if I've mastered that myself, or if I ever will, but I really admire it.

Which is besides the point, sorry! 😂

But Tolkien was different. First off, Tolkien said some things about interpreting the meaning of his own stories that I don't agree with. He keeps insisting he wasn't trying to "say" anything with Lord of the Rings, or infuse it with any particular "meaning." Truth of the matter is, though, that is not true of any good storyteller. What they believe about the world bleeds into what they create, if they're creating genuinely. So Lord of the Rings is about how small decisions matter, doing what you can with what you're given instead of trying to control everything matters—whether Tolkien likes it or not, whether he was always conscious of it or not, that's what his story says.

He also criticized weird things to criticize about Lewis' works. For someone who was Lewis' friend, I don't know how he could've looked at what Lewis was writing and been surprised, or disgruntled, at the hodgepodge of mythology in works like Narnia. I don't know what made him think a "children's story" would feel like anything other than...made for children.

But anyway. All that to say, I don't always agree with Tolkien, or feel like I understand him. His response to Disney movies is just one of those things I don't get. I can speculate, but I don't know.

Like I said, I think he was so used to thinking of fairy tales and literature in a way that is much...higher, and more layered, than how the everyday layman thought of them, that when a Kansas cartoonist started retelling fairytales without any apparent grasp of that layering, it really rubbed him the wrong way.

I guess it would be like if someone came along twenty years from now, pointed at Disney's The Little Mermaid, and said, "look! A cartoon about fish! I'm going to make an TikTok dance about fish and call it 'The Little Mermaid,' and retell it that way!"

First of all we'd be like "IT'S ABOUT SO MUCH MORE THAN FISH, it's not just an CARTOON, are you BLIND?!" And then secondly we'd probably go, "and what? A TikTok dance?! Are you kidding me? You want to take this beautiful pillar of traditional animation and living color and musical mastery and drag it down to the level of middle school girls flapping their hands around cringily??"

That's probably how Tolkien felt Disney was treating Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Because back then, the medium (TikTok dances, animation) was just associated with sort of lowbrow humor and silliness. Walt was still inventing the whole "animated film to be taken seriously" thing. And back then, Tolkien would've seen the comedy characters of the Dwarfs and their character development as very shallow in comparison to the mythos of Dwarfs in literary and oral-tradition history. He had the most background knowledge. So what he was comparing Walt's movies to was, for him, like comparing grape Gatorade to aged Italian Wine.

As far as Disney being a "con artist..." yeah, I think that's a little bit of a stretch. He was definitely selling something, but if you can look at Walt Disney's life and see dollar bill signs, instead of a guy who genuinely made what he liked because he liked it, you don't know much about Walt Disney. He didn't adapt fairy tales because he thought they could make him money. He adapted fairy tales because he adored them, just like he had a train in his backyard because he adored them. Ask his brother Roy how much Walter "Let's Invent Smell-O-Vision and Drop Flowers on the Audience of Fantasia" Disney was thinking about exploiting the public for financial gain.

Like I said, Tolkien was responding to Walt Disney because he was Tolkien, and it would've been like asking a Bird to relate to a Krill. They were way too different to ever understand each other on the level that either of them preferred being understood at.

#Tolkien #Disney #Walt Disney #j. r. r. tolkien #c. S. Lewis #Barbie #Narnia #lord of the rings #lotr #Snow White and the seven dwarfs

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f1letters · 2 years

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question…? | ls18

"did you wish you'd put up more of a fight when she said it was too much?"

summary: she was just planning a fun night out with her best friends, but an unexpected reunion changes everything

warning: angst, cheating, toxic relationship, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of a one-night stand, mentions of anxiety, suggestive language

pairing: lance stroll x reader

word count: 3.4k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

and with that, I hope you enjoy my first-ever story here! had to start with the song that started this whole idea! as an angst lover myself, expect a lot more to come in the next stories! haha

masterlist

I remember

Nervous was an understatement. Y/N wasn't the type of girl to go out clubbing often, at least not anymore. However, she had exhausted all excuses to deny her older sister and her best friend's invitations, leaving her only with the option to finally say yes. One night won't hurt, she thought, probably in an attempt to convince herself.

As she finished getting ready, she stopped to see her reflection in the large mirror leaning against the wall of her bedroom. The chosen dress stood out so easily, not only for the way it fitted perfectly along the curves of her body but also for its stunning dark green colour. She liked what she saw. She felt confident and beautiful for the first time in a long time.

Unconsciously, her hand searched for the silver chain around her neck and touched it gently. A nervous tic that became ordinary in her daily life, seeking some comfort in the delicate piece of jewellery that meant so much to her.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her bedroom door opening, her two companions for that night appearing. Clearly too excited to be sober, they were laughing like this was the best night of their lives, which was partially true. Just the fact that they were finally able to persuade Y/N to go out with them, an idea that had seemed impossible a few days before, was reason enough to celebrate. So why not start partying now and have a few shots while they waited for her?

"Oh. My. God. Who are you?!" "Damn, looking hot, sis!" Maddie and Noa said excitedly, their eyes admiring the look. The three girls laughed, as Y/N took a little spin, showing off jokingly.

"Thank you, thank you!" She said, giggling a little nervously. "Are you guys ready to leave?" She asked, grabbing her small black purse.

"Let's go, bitches! The club awaits us." Maddie announced and grabbed the two sisters by their arms, pulling them along the stairs towards the exit.

They called an Uber and set off toward their destination, knowing full well that none of them had plans to make it to the end of the night with the ability to drive back to the house. It was their night to enjoy and have fun after all.

About twenty minutes later, Y/N's eyes couldn't help but appreciate the glamorous and luminous entrance with some nostalgia, as they waited patiently in line to get in. The contrast between the pink and green neon lights adorned the name of the place. Y/N hadn't been there for months. Too long perhaps, she thought.

As they walked inside through the dark, long hallways to the bar, her heart skipped a beat. What are the odds? What are the chances that it's playing the exact same song from that fateful night? She looked at the other two beside her and saw them start to sing and dance, carefree. They don't even know, snap out of it, Y/N. The young woman gave them a fake smile, trying to look equally unbothered.

But that was a lie.

She still remembered. She still remembered that night when she met him, in that very own bar.

Good girl, sad boy

Big city, wrong choices

We had one thing goin' on

I swear that it was somethin'

'Cause I don't remember who I was

Before you painted all my nights

A color I've searched for since

Her sister quickly managed to get drinks for everyone and pulled them with her onto the dance floor, ensuring the party would go on. The three friends started moving to the music together, laughing and hugging each other. It meant so much to them all to be there with each other. It had been too long since the last time.

However, Y/N couldn't escape the feeling that something was going to happen. Maybe it was just anxiety talking, maybe some kind of premonition. Who knows? Regardless, her right hand escaped again towards her necklace. As soon as she felt the cold from the silver against her skin, she felt a shiver down her spine. You're being ridiculous, Y/N. Forget it.

She tried to let go of all those nervous thoughts. However, she realized it was going to be mission impossible as soon as his face popped into her head. And with that, all the associated feelings. The pain. The heartbreak. Brought by something so unexpected and unplanned... But it was special, it was intense, it was... unique.

"Hey! I know what you're doing, so stop it right now!" Maddie said loudly in her ear, trying to be heard over the music. "C'mon! We're here to have fun. Don't think about him. Forget it, it's been a year." Y/N felt some discomfort in her best friend's voice, maybe even a bit of annoyance. But who was she to judge? Her friend was the one that had to pick up the pieces of her heart after that one-night adventure.

"I know, I know! I promise I'm here to be with you guys, not to be in a bad mood!" Y/N nodded.

"Enjoy yourself! Go dance with that hottie over there! He won't stop looking at you." Noa smirked, joining the conversation.

So you did exactly that. Time passed, her mates nowhere to be seen, as she continued to dance with the young man, whose name she didn't even bother to ask. It's just an innocent flirt, she thought. The front of him against her back, his body heat warming her up. He did try to make some advances, but so far without success.

And then, like a meteor strike, she saw it.

She saw him.

And the whole world stopped just like it did one year before.

But one thing after another

Fuckin' situations, circumstances

Miscommunications and I

Have to say, by the way

I just may like some explanations

And he saw her too, almost like magnets attracted to one another.

He remembered everything. Absolutely everything.

Her soft eyes. Her amazing body. The way it moved. Her contagious laugh. Her sweet voice. Her passionate moans.

The world changed for both of them on that fatidic night, so they just stood there. Staring in shock. They never thought they would see each other again... Especially with the abrupt way that night ended, ruining that once-in-a-lifetime magical and blissful experience.

His eyes strayed from hers, filling with jealousy as he looked at the body behind her. The audacity of this man, the girl thought. And with that, she grabbed the plastic cup in the mystery man's hand beside her, drank it in one go, in search of liquid courage, and started her way towards the man before her.

"Y/N." He whispered, frozen to the ground as she approached him.

"Lance. I just would like some explanations."

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was makin' fun of you

But fifteen seconds later, thеy were clappin' too?

Then what did you do?

Wearing a much more conservative dress, clearly stolen from her older sister's closet, Y/N ended up sitting alone in that bar, abandoned by Noa who was somewhere on the dance floor with a random guy. This was not her typical vibe at all and it was her first time in that club. So, she was bored out of her mind, having fun just people-watching.

Her eyes eventually gravitated to a drop-dead gorgeous boy as he took the seat beside her, but she wasn't going to approach him. I could never, she thought. Maybe Noa would, but I could never.

Y/N couldn't help but glance in his direction from time to time, curious. But since she wasn't going to act, fate got to work and the girl ended up losing her balance against him, accidentally pushed by a boy who was too drunk to walk straight.

"I'm so sorry. Someone bumped into me." She looked at him, apologetic. The tanned man, not a word. Just a quick nod and completely ignored her, not even looking at her.

Oh, okay.

She couldn't forget that awkward interaction and, without thinking, spoke in the direction of the brunette.

"Can I ask you a question?"

As their eyes met for the first time, butterflies invaded her stomach.

Did you lеave her house in the middle of the night? Oh

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch her?

It's just a question

"Are you okay? You look sad." She asked, shocked at her own behaviour.

He can't explain it, but for some inexplicable reason, he found himself venting to a complete stranger in a bar about all the stress he felt due to his work. Not mentioning what he actually did, of course. The season was going bad. The worst of his career possibly. But talking to someone who didn't have a clue who he was was refreshing.

And the way she constantly nodded, and said small words, to assure him that she was hearing what he was saying.

She was beautiful. Her flushed cheeks revealed her shyness, but that made her even more charming to him.

Eventually, tired of talking about himself, Lance took a risk and pulled her gently by the hand towards the center of the floor. His arm went around the girl's waist, and her arm followed, circling his neck.

The tension that had been building since the moment Y/N questioned him continued to evolve. Their eyes met, under the club lights, for a few seconds. Until her eyes strayed to the young driver's soft lips and noticing this, Lance kissed her in the middle of the crowded room.

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

Did you realize out of time?

She was on your mind with some dickhead guy

That you saw that night

But you were on somethin'

"You left." She said, consumed with rage. "You left me. Alone, without explanation. Without a word, a note, a phone number. You just disappeared and now, on this night of all nights, you decide to show up here?"

Her eyes began to sting slightly, tears forming and threatening to fall. His eyes were filled with guilt and regret. Seeing her like this is punishment enough for what I did, he thought.

"It may have been just a one-night stand for you, but not for me. For me, it was so much fucking more." And with that, the young woman stormed out of the club, heading for the exit, leaving Lance speechless, motionless, not knowing what to do.

Don't lose her again, his brain screamed. So he ran after her like his life depended on it. When he finally reached her, he gripped her wrist, harder than he'd anticipated, driven by desperation.

Feeling the man's strength around her hand, she jerked her arm to free herself, pushing his chest for Lance to move away from her. However, her body moved towards his, contradicting herself. Her pain controlled her now, as she began to try to hit him in the chest, tears now flowing freely.

Lance couldn't take it. Not the pain, that I deserve, he thought. But being away from her. So as his hands managed to make her stop, his arms pulled her in, leaning his cheek against her head as she sobbed against his heart.

He could only understand one sentence.

"It may sound impossible, but I swear I fell in love with you that night."

It was one drink after another

Fuckin' politics and gender roles

And you're not sure and I don't know

Got swept away in the gray

I just may like to have a conversation

"And I fell for you too!" His voice rose. He cupped her face gently by her chin, allowing eye contact between the ex-lovers.

"I was in a difficult position, and you know it! It was an impulsive decision that I should never have made, but believe me when I say I regretted it the second I walked out that door!" His unexpected feelings exploded on his face and he was taken completely by surprise, eventually making an irrational choice that had plagued him for months. "I wanted to go back, but I didn't know how to reach you. I felt the same way, I swear on everything sacred in my life. I fell in love that night... and now, looking at you... I know these feelings never went away."

Time has stopped for them. Mirroring the past, they found themselves in the same place, in the same position, hearts beating fast. Almost as if they had never been separated by circumstances and miscommunications.

He smoothed her hair, trying to calm her down, feeling her grip on his shirt. Lance's first tear fell.

For the first time, she heard the words she had been searching for all this time.

"I'm sorry for what I did."

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was makin' fun of you

But fifteen seconds later, they were clappin' too?

Then what did you do?

After the kiss, they pulled away, staring at each other for a few seconds. Consumed by the atmosphere between them, it was as if no one else was in the room.

Until Y/N hears a random guy yelling a name. Looking over her shoulder, she saw two boys: one tall, skinny and the other blonde, handsome. "Go, Lance! Get it, my guy!" His friends made fun of him, clapping happily.

She laughed. "I think they are your friends?" The man chuckled nervously, hand behind his neck, and pulled her toward the exit, fingers intertwining.

As soon as she felt the cold outside, she turned to the brunette. "I was so fascinated by you that I totally forgot to ask your name." Embarrassed, and nervous, she continued. "I never do this kind of thing and now I'm kissing someone I don't even know."

He held her face and said softly. "I'm Lance, and you are...?"

"Y/N." She relaxed against his strong hands.

"Well, Y/N, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen."

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Oh

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch her?

It's just a question

Fuck it, she thought to herself.

"Do you want to get out of here?" She asked, carried away by spontaneity.

Quickly, they ended up at her apartment door, lips pressed together, his hands exploring the curves of her body as Y/N searched for her house keys.

When they entered, she pulled him by his chain to her room. The tension continued to rise, hands and lips exploring their skin as if they were afraid to wake up from what felt like a dream.

Bodies aligned, as well as their souls. It was the two of them, just the two of them in the world during those hours.

However, as they descended from their highs, one of them remained on top of the world, while the other was overcome with guilt. What have I done, Lance thought, as reality hit him.

Working up the courage to look at her, his chest ached as he saw her with the biggest smile on her face, and half-moon eyes. He swallowed nervously.

"I have something to tell you."

Does it feel like everything's just like

Second best after that meteor strike?

And what's that that I heard? That you're still with her?

That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable

And right, but tonight

"You're sorry?" She couldn't help but ask. "That night, you made me feel things I never felt again. You took me to the top of the world… only to throw me down."

She changed. After the heartbreak, she spent months clubbing, hoping to see him again. She looked for him in other bodies. She cried. She screamed. She was never the same.

But worse than that… She never found what he gave her. It had been an experience of a lifetime she knew she would never get over. How many people can say they experienced love at first sight?

They stayed silent for a while until Lance's hands reached her face and he let his forehead touch hers. He sighed, eyes closed, at the comfort of his skin touching hers again.

He noticed the silver detail around her throat. Her necklace. His necklace.

As he was leaning in slowly, afraid to kiss her again after all this time, she interrupted. "Are you still with her?"

Can I ask you a question?

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

And every single one of your friends was makin' fun of you

But fifteen seconds later, they were clappin' too?

Then what did you do?

"What the fuck do you mean you are with somebody?" She screamed, jumping out of bed.

"I- I have a girlfriend. I know it sounds bad, but I can explain-" Lance tried to justify his actions, desperate and scared.

With her sheets wrapped around her body, she started to cry. She felt used, and played.

He tried to grab her wrist, preventing her escape, but with no success. "This is too much." She said as she got in her bathroom, locking herself. She just sat there, on the tile floor, as her tears fell freely.

"Please." He pleaded. "Listen to me." Lance tried.

She just stood there, alone with her feelings. After some time, her crying stopped and she was just mad. She stormed out, asking him. "Why?" But she was left shocked.

He was nowhere to be seen. He had left.

With only his necklace left forgotten on her bedside table.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Oh

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh (More of a fight)

When she said it was too much?

Do you wish you could still touch her?

It's just a question

"No. I broke up with her shortly after that." Lance admitted. "I couldn't keep you out of my mind. The guilt was eating me alive."

"I tried to talk to you." She told. "I came out of the bathroom, ready to hear you out, but you weren't there anymore."

Lost in their revelations, they both travelled through a thousand "what ifs", wondering how things could have been different.

"I never thought I would see you again." The driver confessed, interrupting.

"Do you wish you'd put up more of a fight?" She asked.

"Every day." He looked deeply into her eyes. "You made me feel complete for the first time in a long time. Only for me to be the one who screwed it up. It was a mistake."

"Do you think I was a mistake?" He can't, her head was spinning, afraid of suffering again.

"Not you. But my actions: the way I acted with you, with her. It was unfair." He admitted.

For the hundredth time that night, she unconsciously touched her necklace, noticing that his hand had found a place there as well.

"I'm sorry, and I hope you'll give me a chance to make up for my mistakes. Even if it takes every day of my life." He whispered, hopeful.

And just like that, she kissed him, putting together the pieces that had been left apart on that magical night.

"This might be the worst idea ever, but I'd love to start over." She spoke honestly, but now with a large smile and only love in her eyes.

He pulled away from her, leaving her confused.

"I'm Lance, and you are…?"

She laughed, holding out a hand for him to shake, playfully. "Y/N."

He ignored her hand. Instead, he pulled her face up to his and let his nose fondly caress hers.

"Well, Y/N, you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen."

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