resident-normal-person

[resident-normal-person]

here’s a story about changelings

reposted from my old blog, which got deleted:   Mary was a beautiful baby, sweet and affectionate, but by the time she’s three she’s turned difficult and strange, with fey moods and a stubborn mouth that screams and bites but never says mama. But her mother’s well-used to hard work with little thanks, and when the village gossips wag their tongues she just shrugs, and pulls her difficult child away from their precious, perfect blossoms, before the bites draw blood. Mary’s mother doesn’t drown her in a bucket of saltwater, and she doesn’t take up the silver knife the wife of the village priest leaves out for her one Sunday brunch. She gives her daughter yarn, instead, and instead of a rowan stake through her inhuman heart she gives her a child’s first loom, oak and ash. She lets her vicious, uncooperative fairy daughter entertain herself with games of her own devising, in as much peace and comfort as either of them can manage. Mary grows up strangely, as a strange child would, learning everything in all the wrong order, and biting a great deal more than she should. But she also learns to weave, and takes to it with a grand passion. Soon enough she knows more than her mother–which isn’t all that much–and is striking out into unknown territory, turning out odd new knots and weaves, patterns as complex as spiderwebs and spellrings. “Aren’t you clever,” her mother says, of her work, and leaves her to her wool and flax and whatnot. Mary’s not biting anymore, and she smiles more than she frowns, and that’s about as much, her mother figures, as anyone should hope for from their child. Mary still cries sometimes, when the other girls reject her for her strange graces, her odd slow way of talking, her restless reaching fluttering hands that have learned to spin but never to settle. The other girls call her freak, witchblood, hobgoblin. “I don’t remember girls being quite so stupid when I was that age,” her mother says, brushing Mary’s hair smooth and steady like they’ve both learned to enjoy, smooth as a skein of silk. “Time was, you knew not to insult anyone you might need to flatter later. ‘Specially when you don’t know if they’re going to grow wings or horns or whatnot. Serve ‘em all right if you ever figure out curses.” “I want to go back,” Mary says. “I want to go home, to where I came from, where there’s people like me. If I’m a fairy’s child I should be in fairyland, and no one would call me a freak.” “Aye, well, I’d miss you though,” her mother says. “And I expect there’s stupid folk everywhere, even in fairyland. Cruel folk, too. You just have to make the best of things where you are, being my child instead.” Mary learns to read well enough, in between the weaving, especially when her mother tracks down the traveling booktraders and comes home with slim, precious manuals on dyes and stains and mordants, on pigments and patterns, diagrams too arcane for her own eyes but which make her daughter’s eyes shine. “We need an herb garden,” her daughter says, hands busy, flipping from page to page, pulling on her hair, twisting in her skirt, itching for a project. “Yarrow, and madder, and woad and weld…” “Well, start digging,” her mother says. “Won’t do you a harm to get out of the house now’n then.” Mary doesn’t like dirt but she’s learned determination well enough from her mother. She digs and digs, and plants what she’s given, and the first year doesn’t turn out so well but the second’s better, and by the third a cauldron’s always simmering something over the fire, and Mary’s taking in orders from girls five years older or more, turning out vivid bolts and spools and skeins of red and gold and blue, restless fingers dancing like they’ve summoned down the rainbow. Her mother figures she probably has. “Just as well you never got the hang of curses,” she says, admiring her bright new skirts. “I like this sort of trick a lot better.” Mary smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels, fingers already fluttering to find the next project. She finally grows up tall and fair, if a bit stooped and squinty, and time and age seem to calm her unhappy mouth about as well as it does for human children. Word gets around she never lies or breaks a bargain, and if the first seems odd for a fairy’s child then the second one seems fit enough. The undyed stacks of taken orders grow taller, the dyed lots of filled orders grow brighter, the loom in the corner for Mary’s own creations grows stranger and more complex. Mary’s hands callus just like her mother’s, become as strong and tough and smooth as the oak and ash of her needles and frames, though they never fall still. “Do you ever wonder what your real daughter would be like?” the priest’s wife asks, once. Mary’s mother snorts. “She wouldn’t be worth a damn at weaving,” she says. “Lord knows I never was. No, I’ll keep what I’ve been given and thank the givers kindly. It was a fair enough trade for me. Good day, ma’am.” Mary brings her mother sweet chamomile tea, that night, and a warm shawl in all the colors of a garden, and a hairbrush. In the morning, the priest’s son comes round, with payment for his mother’s pretty new dress and a shy smile just for Mary. He thinks her hair is nice, and her hands are even nicer, vibrant in their strength and skill and endless motion.   They all live happily ever after. * Here’s another story: Gregor grew fast, even for a boy, grew tall and big and healthy and began shoving his older siblings around early. He was blunt and strange and flew into rages over odd things, over the taste of his porridge or the scratch of his shirt, over the sound of rain hammering on the roof, over being touched when he didn’t expect it and sometimes even when he did. He never wore shoes if he could help it and he could tell you the number of nails in the floorboards without looking, and his favorite thing was to sit in the pantry and run his hands through the bags of dry barley and corn and oat. Considering as how he had fists like a young ox by the time he was five, his family left him to it. “He’s a changeling,” his father said to his wife, expecting an argument, but men are often the last to know anything about their children, and his wife only shrugged and nodded, like the matter was already settled, and that was that. They didn’t bind Gregor in iron and leave him in the woods for his own kind to take back. They didn’t dig him a grave and load him into it early. They worked out what made Gregor angry, in much the same way they figured out the personal constellations of emotion for each of their other sons, and when spring came, Gregor’s father taught him about sprouts, and when autumn came, Gregor’s father taught him about sheaves. Meanwhile his mother didn’t mind his quiet company around the house, the way he always knew where she’d left the kettle, or the mending, because she was forgetful and he never missed a detail. “Pity you’re not a girl, you’d never drop a stitch of knitting,” she tells Gregor, in the winter, watching him shell peas. His brothers wrestle and yell before the hearth fire, but her fairy child just works quietly, turning peas by their threes and fours into the bowl. “You know exactly how many you’ve got there, don’t you?” she says. “Six hundred and thirteen,” he says, in his quiet, precise way. His mother says “Very good,” and never says Pity you’re not human. He smiles just like one, if not for quite the same reasons. The next autumn he’s seven, a lucky number that pleases him immensely, and his father takes him along to the mill with the grain. “What you got there?” The miller asks them. “Sixty measures of Prince barley, thirty two measures of Hare’s Ear corn, and eighteen of Abernathy Blue Slate oats,” Gregor says. “Total weight is three hundred fifty pounds, or near enough. Our horse is named Madam. The wagon doesn’t have a name. I’m Gregor.” “My son,” his father says. “The changeling one.” “Bit sharper’n your others, ain’t he?” the miller says, and his father laughs. Gregor feels proud and excited and shy, and it dries up all his words, sticks them in his throat. The mill is overwhelming, but the miller is kind, and tells him the name of each and every part when he points at it, and the names of all the grain in all the bags waiting for him to get to them. “Didn’t know the fair folk were much for machinery,” the miller says. Gregor shrugs. “I like seeds,” he says, each word shelled out with careful concentration. “And names. And numbers.” “Aye, well. Suppose that’d do it. Want t’help me load up the grist?” They leave the grain with the miller, who tells Gregor’s father to bring him back ‘round when he comes to pick up the cornflour and cracked barley and rolled oats. Gregor falls asleep in the nameless wagon on the way back, and when he wakes up he goes right back to the pantry, where the rest of the seeds are left, and he runs his hands through the shifting, soothing textures and thinks about turning wheels, about windspeed and counterweights. When he’s twelve–another lucky number–he goes to live in the mill with the miller, and he never leaves, and he lives happily ever after. * Here’s another: James is a small boy who likes animals much more than people, which doesn’t bother his parents overmuch, as someone needs to watch the sheep and make the sheepdogs mind. James learns the whistles and calls along with the lambs and puppies, and by the time he’s six he’s out all day, tending to the flock. His dad gives him a knife and his mom gives him a knapsack, and the sheepdogs give him doggy kisses and the sheep don’t give him too much trouble, considering. “It’s not right for a boy to have so few complaints,” his mother says, once, when he’s about eight. “Probably ain’t right for his parents to have so few complaints about their boy, neither,” his dad says. That’s about the end of it. James’ parents aren’t very talkative, either. They live the routines of a farm, up at dawn and down by dusk, clucking softly to the chickens and calling harshly to the goats, and James grows up slow but happy. When James is eleven, he’s sent to school, because he’s going to be a man and a man should know his numbers. He gets in fights for the first time in his life, unused to peers with two legs and loud mouths and quick fists. He doesn’t like the feel of slate and chalk against his fingers, or the harsh bite of a wooden bench against his legs. He doesn’t like the rules: rules for math, rules for meals, rules for sitting down and speaking when you’re spoken to and wearing shoes all day and sitting under a low ceiling in a crowded room with no sheep or sheepdogs. Not even a puppy. But his teacher is a good woman, patient and experienced, and James isn’t the first miserable, rocking, kicking, crying lost lamb ever handed into her care. She herds the other boys away from him, when she can, and lets him sit in the corner by the door, and have a soft rag to hold his slate and chalk with, so they don’t gnaw so dryly at his fingers. James learns his numbers well enough, eventually, but he also learns with the abruptness of any lamb taking their first few steps–tottering straight into a gallop–to read. Familiar with the sort of things a strange boy needs to know, his teacher gives him myths and legends and fairytales, and steps back. James reads about Arthur and Morgana, about Hercules and Odysseus, about djinni and banshee and brownies and bargains and quests and how sometimes, something that looks human is left to try and stumble along in the humans’ world, step by uncertain step, as best they can. James never comes to enjoy writing. He learns to talk, instead, full tilt, a leaping joyous gambol, and after a time no one wants to hit him anymore. The other boys sit next to him, instead, with their mouths closed, and their hands quiet on their knees.   “Let’s hear from James,” the men at the alehouse say, years later, when he’s become a man who still spends more time with sheep than anyone else, but who always comes back into town with something grand waiting for his friends on his tongue. “What’ve you got for us tonight, eh?” James finishes his pint, and stands up, and says, “Here’s a story about changelings.”

[resident-normal-person]

Shadowhunters characters as "Things to never say to someone who just came out" (TMI edition)

[resident-normal-person]

Alec: Be gay, do crime is all well and good, but one can also be queer, instil fear Lily: You forgot be pan, throw hands Magnus: be bi, go for the eye Raphael: Be ace, punch face Simon, the struggling token straight: ...I'm scared of you all

[resident-normal-person]

emily gwen, the creator of the sunset lesbian flag that we’ve come to commonly use, still continues to live in poverty.

multi-billion dollar companies have used their design and made profit from it, and yet they have not seen a cent for their creation.

i’ve been friends with emily for years, and i have not once seen them be financially stable the entire time. i’ve seen them homeless, unemployed, starving. right now, they need our help more than ever.

please consider donating to emily’s ko-fi, especially if you’ve used their design to create something and profited from it.

[resident-normal-person]

I love blue lock but i would have really like it if blue lock was about girls instead of boys... They keep the premise and characters same but they are girls... All the girls are crazy and obsessed with soccer... They talk about egos and they steal the ball from their teammates... Girl Raichi is still as agressive... Girl Bachira is still as crazy... Girl Shidou and Girl Rin are the same and they fight each other by punching and kicking and pulling hair... Girl Reo and Girl Nagi are the same and they still are gay and Girl Reo braids Girls Nagi's hair and does her mackup and picks out dresses for when they go out cause is still a lazy slacker and those entire interactions are so queer coded that the subject becomes text... The homoerotic tension and rivalries and undertones are all there... They are girls... No, they don't have an eposide dedicated where the talk about boys... Yes the matches are still as intense... No there aren't any wierd boob and ass and panties undershots... Why can't people be normal about teenage girls and their bodies... Why do they always have to sexualized in media... Every time I take a bath i don't bathe in this uncomfortable sexy way... Ego jinpachi is a woman who is crazy... Anri chan can be a man for once... The characters have different body types... Not all of them are slim or curvy and whatever thier body type they are not sexualized...

In fact having girls in a sports manga can mean more drama added to the plot and no i don't mean boys and fighting over crushes🙄🙄... The women's team isn't being taken seriously even though they won more than the men's team on a national and international level... The funding is low... Parents hesitate to send their daughters because "playing pro is a boy's thing... Girls should have more realistic dream"🙄🙄... Yes that is a widely prevalent attitude in more conservative countries...

Just imagine a character who was routinely berated by her parents for playing soccer because it was too masculine and a woman becoming pro would be a) bad face for the family for stupid patriarchy reason b) becoming a pro as a woman is harder due to funding reasons and such so the character is forced to drop soccer and she drops her dreams into the trashcan and just when she loses all hope she finds a letter for her from blue lock she rans away from home into blue lock and bows to never return home and when the other characters find out and say where will she go back if she loses in blue lock she says she will live and die for soccer but she makes it as a regular member in the u 20 match where she plays with such a smile on her face and she is so amazing and happy that her parents realise how shitty they are and then the manga panes the the character where she says that even if she has to make an enemy of the entire world she will play soccer and that is her ego and we all wait for three years for the scene to be animated and when it does we lose our minds because it is so amazing and everything is better because it is girls and there is so much lesbian fruity vibes coming from the character and another character who is like I've always believed in you and she says to the character play soccer all you want I'll never be your enemy only your friend... And the hug each other and look lovingly into each other eyes and there are no guys and it's amazing...

And also you can go a bit darker where you can touch on the topic of how old sleazy men are often in positions of power in women's sports and they coerce the young aspiring teenage girl players into sexual relations and maybe the reason girl sae wanted girl rin to quit was because something terrible happened in Spain and she wants to protect her sister... And there can be discussions of body issues and eating disorders not that boys don't suffer them either but teenage girls are statistically more affected by them...

But anyways i think it would be amazing if there was a sports manga where there are all the traditional tropes of popular sports manga like haikyuu and kuroko no baske and prince of tennis... All the extensive sports analysis and commentary and insane matches and skill that borders on Naruto powers and the hype and rivalries and the underdog defeating powerful opponents and a huge cast of different various players where some are nice some are mean some are arrogant and they all have thier own insecurities and feelings that they are not enough...but instead of teenage boys it's teenage girls and i would really like to see crazy ass teenage girls play soccer like in blue lock... It would be so much better... Thank you...

[resident-normal-person]

I love blue lock but i would have really like it if blue lock was about girls instead of boys... They keep the premise and characters same but they are girls... All the girls are crazy and obsessed with soccer... They talk about egos and they steal the ball from their teammates... Girl Raichi is still as agressive... Girl Bachira is still as crazy... Girl Shidou and Girl Rin are the same and they fight each other by punching and kicking and pulling hair... Girl Reo and Girl Nagi are the same and they still are gay and Girl Reo braids Girls Nagi's hair and does her mackup and picks out dresses for when they go out cause is still a lazy slacker and those entire interactions are so queer coded that the subject becomes text... The homoerotic tension and rivalries and undertones are all there... They are girls... No, they don't have an eposide dedicated where the talk about boys... Yes the matches are still as intense... No there aren't any wierd boob and ass and panties undershots... Why can't people be normal about teenage girls and their bodies... Why do they always have to sexualized in media... Every time I take a bath i don't bathe in this uncomfortable sexy way... Ego jinpachi is a woman who is crazy... Anri chan can be a man for once... The characters have different body types... Not all of them are slim or curvy and whatever thier body type they are not sexualized...

In fact having girls in a sports manga can mean more drama added to the plot and no i don't mean boys and fighting over crushes🙄🙄... The women's team isn't being taken seriously even though they won more than the men's team on a national and international level... The funding is low... Parents hesitate to send their daughters because "playing pro is a boy's thing... Girls should have more realistic dream"🙄🙄... Yes that is a widely prevalent attitude in more conservative countries...

Just imagine a character who was routinely berated by her parents for playing soccer because it was too masculine and a woman becoming pro would be a) bad face for the family for stupid patriarchy reason b) becoming a pro as a woman is harder due to funding reasons and such so the character is forced to drop soccer and she drops her dreams into the trashcan and just when she loses all hope she finds a letter for her from blue lock she rans away from home into blue lock and bows to never return home and when the other characters find out and say where will she go back if she loses in blue lock she says she will live and die for soccer but she makes it as a regular member in the u 20 match where she plays with such a smile on her face and she is so amazing and happy that her parents realise how shitty they are and then the manga panes the the character where she says that even if she has to make an enemy of the entire world she will play soccer and that is her ego and we all wait for three years for the scene to be animated and when it does we lose our minds because it is so amazing and everything is better because it is girls and there is so much lesbian fruity vibes coming from the character and another character who is like I've always believed in you and she says to the character play soccer all you want I'll never be your enemy only your friend... And the hug each other and look lovingly into each other eyes and there are no guys and it's amazing...

And also you can go a bit darker where you can touch on the topic of how old sleazy men are often in positions of power in women's sports and they coerce the young aspiring teenage girl players into sexual relations and maybe the reason girl sae wanted girl rin to quit was because something terrible happened in Spain and she wants to protect her sister... And there can be discussions of body issues and eating disorders not that boys don't suffer them either but teenage girls are statistically more affected by them...

But anyways i think it would be amazing if there was a sports manga where there are all the traditional tropes of popular sports manga like haikyuu and kuroko no baske and prince of tennis... All the extensive sports analysis and commentary and insane matches and skill that borders on Naruto powers and the hype and rivalries and the underdog defeating powerful opponents and a huge cast of different various players where some are nice some are mean some are arrogant and they all have thier own insecurities and feelings that they are not enough...but instead of teenage boys it's teenage girls and i would really like to see crazy ass teenage girls play soccer like in blue lock... It would be so much better... Thank you...

[resident-normal-person]

Writing tip: the way your characters word what they say tells us as much about them as what they're saying. For example:

"Shampoo tastes bad." - neutral statement, simply stating the obvious. Tells us nothing about how the character sees themselves or the world around them. Uninteresting.

"I just don't like the way shampoo tastes." - implies that the character speaking considers this to be an unusual feature of themselves, in contrast to other people, who are implied to supposedly enjoy it. Raises additional questions.

[resident-normal-person]

Can we just… normalize teens loving their parents? Like obviously you’re not obligated to if your parents are shitty, but damn, I love my mom. She’s there for me all the time and sure we have rough patches but honestly she’s the greatest. Like. We need teens to know that they don’t have to hate their parents just cause.

[resident-normal-person]

gay Uwasa

#magia record #magireco #satomi touka #touka satomi #hiiragi nemu #nemu hiiragi #alina gray #puella magi madoka magica #puella magi #digital art #my art

[resident-normal-person]

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your WIPS, let it run, then write one sentence for every vote the winner received

I was tagged by @therosefrontier! I'm gonna make the duration of the poll longer bc I am No Longer Active now that I'm in college and have to devote my brain cells to studying instead of making memes during zoom high school

I have like ten gazillion AUs across multiple fandoms, including Haikyuu!!, Tower of God, Bungou Stray Dogs, and Magia Record

these are just a fraction of my WIPs lmaooo

I put the ones I have been thinking about and have the most stuff planned for here

My AO3 is here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resident_ordinary_person/pseuds/resident_ordinary_person

I'm tagging @lokislytherin, as well as anyone who wants to take part yeehaw

#fanfic #my writing #tower of god #tog #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #magia record #magireco

[resident-normal-person]

for your consideration: konoha akinori but he's actually from konoha 👀🍃

BONUS: team owl 🦉

[resident-normal-person]

Writers! Assemble!

Calling all #writers on tumblr! We have something very special lined up for you here on @books this month: Your very own Betts (@bettsfic) is running a writing workshop!

Who is @bettsfic?

Betts has been on Tumblr since 2012, where she mostly answers writing advice asks but occasionally goes on reblogging sprees of fleeting hyperfixations. She’s the Editor-in-Chief of OFIC Magazine (@oficmag), a literary journal for original fiction by fanauthors. She also leads the Fanauthor Workshop (@fanauthorworkshop).

Beth's fiction has most recently appeared in The Write Launch, Barren Magazine, and Rivet Journal. She received the Barbara Deming Memorial Fund Grant and was a Hudson Prize and Launch Pad Prose Competition finalist. Her work has been supported by the Millay, Jentel, and Kimmel-Harding Nelson Center artist residencies, among others, and she’s been teaching creative writing for seven years as a college instructor and a freelance writing coach. You can find out more at bethweeks.com.

What's this about a workshop?

A writing workshop is generally a gathering of writers sharing work and giving feedback. In this case, we’re hosting what’s called a generative workshop, which means we’ll be introducing core writing concepts and providing prompts for you to work on and share. 

How does this work?

Each Monday over the next four weeks, starting August 14, we’ll post a workshop post for the week at 10 AM EST. 

On Wednesdays, Betts will answer any questions you might have. Please send us your questions here on @books on Monday/Tuesday, so Betts can review them and prepare answers for posting on the Wednesday of that week.

Every Friday is Feature Friday! Betts will select work from the #tumblr writing workshop with betts tag page, and we'll reblog it to Books. 

How to join:

You can get as involved as you like. Message us here at Books to be included in the tag list on each Monday workshop post so that you get a notification. 

You can also simply follow along quietly on the #tumblr writing workshop with betts tag page.

Questions? 

Ask any questions you might have before we start here, and Betts will answer them here on Books through this next week.

So, sharpen your pencils, polish your keyboards, and follow the #tumblr writing workshop with betts tag, and we'll see you in the writers' room <3

[resident-normal-person]

holy trifecta of guys being homoerotically killed by their partners

[resident-normal-person]

rick riordan really did just send his gays to superhell but like in an ally way didn't he

#OMG THEY LITERALLY WENT TO SUPER HELL #tsats #the sun and the star #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo

[resident-normal-person]

the og dialogue is “nan desu?” “nani ga?” “nani te nani ga?”

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky #bsd fyodor #bsd dazai #bsd dostoevsky #fyozai #bsd season 4 #bsd s4 spoilers #fyozai in prison be like #memes #bsd memes #Youtube

[resident-normal-person]

I've rarely seen a more validating sentence in my entire life.

[resident-normal-person]

Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up

62. Sugawara Koushi

#i'm sorry op but this pose is giving “taste that pink venom (x3)” #your art is lovely <333