something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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wait because seriously being an adult therian fucking rips, especially when you start being independent.
dog with a blog? nah. dog with a JOB. i come into work with my tail and my theta delta necklace and the building implodes from my sheer swag. weirdo teenagers love me. also having your own paycheck means you can get whatever gear/treats you want (once bills are paid, of course - bet youve never heard a dog say that!)
living in your own apartment? well the pet limit is 2 but if i include myself im going over the limit. whoops! good thing i love lying to landlords (fuck landlords). living alone (no roomie) is even better bc theres no one to judge you for your animal habits. i can make a huge den in the living room and who is going to stop me?
i even have my own health insurance. bro. imagine being a dog with medicaid. im climbing the walls and howling and barking. i love being a dog filling out government paperwork.
having your own vehicle? THIS DOG CAN DRIVE! if i feel like going to the lake i can just go to the lake! nobody is stopping me! midnight ride with the windows down to howl at the moon? yes please!!
you can literally just go wherever bro. i moved 11 hours from my hometown to the mountains to feel more at home. i lived in the great plains and now i can just go out for a hike in the rockies and howl at the sky.
being an adult therian slaps so fucking hard i cant wait for the youth to grow up and experience the joy of freedom. yes being an adult is incredibly stressful but if youve been stifled living with family, you get a real chance to develop who you truly are. adult therians i love you im rubbing against your neck and mixing our scents. mwah.
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my girl and @sowhumpshaped's boy interacting bc yippee yahoo yay (yes that anon was me. again. i should really sign my anons lmfao)
also this is like a weird mix of my pet verse and theirs, tried to keep things consistent but i have adhd memory so do not count on it!! 🫡
anyways,
rayan couldn't believe it. not only had he finally, after years of attempts, been approved for his pet owner's license, but he was also heading to the shelter - not as a volunteer this time, but to finally, finally pick out a pet of his very own.
to say he was excited was an understatement, truly, but he also felt a little bad as he approached the building. he'd been so busy recently, he hadn't been in for volunteer work for a solid two weeks. he supposed it was all worth it now, though.
he only felt more and more excited, almost giddy, as he was brought back towards the kennels. no more pining and yearning, when he left this building, it'd be with his very own pet right by his side.
he already recognized most of the faces he passed, but he still bothered to go kennel-by-kennel anyways. this was possibly the most important decision he'd ever make, and he was going to take it very seriously.
there was one he didn't recognize, though. all the way in the back, curled up as small as possible on its bed, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, was a pet he'd never seen before. he couldn't even really make out any distinctive features, with the way it was hiding its face in its arms. it was blonde, he could at least say that, with floppy little dog ears of a matching color, but he couldn't pick out much else.
"when did this one get in?" he asked, frowning in sympathy. one of the other volunteers - who he admittedly didn't know very well - glanced at the pet in question and sighed.
"last week, i think." they said. "real nasty case. she was confiscated from her last owner after heavy suspicions of abuse, the pet hospital sent her here once she didn't need constant medical attention anymore."
they clicked their tongue derisively. "i don't know how someone could do that to their pet." they sighed again. "either way, she's very skittish. doesn't bite, though. not even if you corner her."
so it's a girl. rayan thought distantly, blinking silently as he processed that load of information.
"that's- that's horrible!" he spluttered, once his brain finally caught up with him. he glanced back at the kennel. the pet inside had raised her head a little bit, and he could make out one shining green eye looking warily at him. "what- what happened?"
the volunteer spun their ring of keys around their finger, before selecting one and unlocking the gate to the kennel. "see for yourself."
electing not to comment on that weirdly ominous answer, he obliged and stepped inside the kennel. almost immediately, the pet inside shrunk back, like she could somehow manage to retreat even further into the far corner of the space.
rayan frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in worry. he didn't want to scare her anymore - the poor thing had probably already been scared enough for several lifetimes. so, with a soft grunt, he got down and sat on the kennel floor, a good six feet away from her.
"hi." he said, giving his best encouraging smile. "i'm rayan. i'm not going to hurt you." he kept his tone as soft and soothing as he possibly could. he eyed the tag on her collar, too far away to actually read it. "could i know your name too?"
she just stared at him for a few moments, sizing him up with her one visible eye, before slowly, cautiously rising to her hands and knees and taking a single step out of her bed.
and the moment she turned to fully face him, he immediately understood what the other volunteer meant by see for yourself.
only one of her eyes had been visible because the other was completely missing. almost the entire left side of her face, only ending less than an inch above her mouth, was made up of the rough scar tissue left by severe burns. where her left eye would have been, there was simply a shallow divot.
it took everything in him not to visibly recoil, because he knew it'd be interpreted the wrong way. the poor thing would probably think he was disgusted by her, when in reality, he was nearly floored by the depths of the cruelty she'd had to endure. even her tail, which was tucked firmly between her legs at the moment, had an odd bend to it, like it had been broken and healed crooked.
as she got closer to him, he could see just how terribly she was trembling, the way her ribs were clearly visible against her flesh. her single eye held so much fear, and her ears were pinned back against her skull, yet she continued to approach anyways.
until finally, she sat down in front of him, hunched and small and afraid. he wanted so badly to just reach out and comfort her, but he knew that escalating that quickly would likely scare her more.
slowly, so she could still keep a close eye on his movements and back away if she felt threatened, he reached for her collar. black leather - heavy duty, but impersonal. "NANA" was engraved on the front of the tag in bold, capital letters. The back was bare.
"nana." he repeated. her gaze immediately snapped from his hand back to his face. "is that your name?"
after a few hesitant seconds, she gave a single nod.
he smiled. "it's nice to meet you, nana." he said. "would it be okay if i pet you?"
she looked almost incredulous that he was asking, but nodded again anyways.
the moment his hand started to card through her hair, it was like her demeanor did a complete 180. she all but melted into the touch, leaning heavily into his hand as he scratched behind her ears. he could even see her tail starting to wag out of the corner of his eye.
poor thing. he thought sadly. is this really all it takes?
"you were just scared, weren't you?" he said. "scared i was gonna hurt you..." he couldn't even entertain the thought. "well, everything's okay. i'm not gonna hurt you, see?"
to his shock, she stepped closer again, and curled up in his lap, looking up at him with and eye full of pleas for more pets. he couldn't help but laugh to himself as he obliged.
"so," the volunteer from earlier said, nearly sending rayan jumping out of his skin - he'd forgotten they were there! "think you've found a keeper?" they gave him a knowing smile.
he looked down at the pet curled up in his lap, feeling the joy of finally achieving his dream once again.
he beamed as brightly as he could. "i- yeah! i think i did!"
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it's a little funny to me that people on here who haven't watched house md and have only heard about it through the grapevine seem to think that the asexuality episode is the only time that the show egregiously erred about a sensitive topic most people at the time knew nothing about. like i swear to god on EVERY post on here about the show being hashtag problematic there's ALWAYS someone in the comments going "and it was bad about asexuality which makes it worse!" and yes the show was bad about asexuality (i am ace. i know) and yes that happened at a time when asexuality was essentially unknown to almost everyone in america, but citing that as though it's like.... a singular event that only happened to one marginalized group who happened to be Particularly hated is like... very very Very much ignoring how frequent and systematic these writing choices were.
in curating a list of episodes to skip i'm finding archived contemporary articles written the DAY after episodes came out from various relevant organizations saying "hey!! hey!! this is the first time most of the american public has ever encountered this issue and you were fucking cruel and evil about it!!" about topics including but not limited to: asexuality, intersexism (TWICE), homophobia, Deaf culture, autism, schizophrenia, psychosis, low empathy, AIDS, and racial medical disparities. this is not the end of the list it's just the ones i can remember rn. the writers of the show did not ONLY think that asexuality doesn't exist. the writers of the show were afflicted with south-park-itis wherein every time they heard about literally any marginalized group having feelings or opinions different from the mainstream, they went, "wow, i don't like that! what's the best way to mock and belittle them as thoroughly as possible so that everyone knows that we're very very smart and know everything and these nasty people are very very stupid and deserve to be othered??"
the show doesn't Just suck about asexuality. it sucks about everything. and it's not because it's a cute tongue-in-cheek "ooo we hate everyone equally 🤗" thing. it's because the writers were actively vitriolic and cruel and inhumane about every single person they didn't care to understand. it's bad. the ace episode is not an outlier, it's par for the course for the entire series.
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peaches. peaches PLEASE. i just read the entirety of The Ocean in one go so fucking fast and had to take a furiously joyful lap around my apartment. You have a way of describing physical sensations (in The Wolves, the sensation of "cold prickling between the friction" really took me somewhere specific) that puts a person directly into the story so solidly, so unmistakably, it truly shocks me to the core.
The way you build stories, drip-feeding in the unease as if through an IV, flashed with images that are so universal and recognizable, it makes for such good story telling. You could sell back to me the body I live in and I'd pay a fool's price for it.
I noticed that in a couple of the tags you've spoken about trying to "shake the rust" or "just vibes" and I would impress upon you that when you lean into what you consider vibes/ruminating, wonderful things happen, regardless of how finessed or "complete" they are.
I'm in a lifetime fixation really into orcas/marine wildlife as well and apart from the specific mentions of these aspects, was completely swept away by the character study you offered. Like, the thing that initially made me read this story took a back seat because I was so enthralled by the weaving of the story.
All this to say you're a fucking legend and you should trust yourself, listen to your "vibes" (because, reading through the rest of your works, they're immaculate) and lean into your fascinations.
This was so lovely. I really appreciate you taking the time to write this out and share it with me. I really, really enjoy writing The Ocean and hope to get the next parts that I’ve been dabbling in up soon. I’ve been trying to build the lore and ambiance of it all without digging too deep too fast so I’m really thrilled to hear it seems to be working. I really enjoy the little anthologies that let me kind of just… do whatever and lean into the “vibes”, so thank you again. You’re very kind 🩵
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