#I am simply very passionate about this and all the details they made and changed

[glitter50000]

Rambling about The Demon in the Wood graphic novel (part 1)

First off having the village that will eventually be raided as the prologue in a way and showing how Grisha are viewed when Aleksander was growing up is a very interesting way to open the setting. The fact that there’s people that live in it as well. Like you actually see them living there. That last line as well, how the kid says it so casually. Also that sense of foreboding I got when reading this cause of what happens at the end and it’s only the beginning.

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In the eerie, muffled silence of the water, he heard his mother’s voice, vicious like a whip crack. She was always asking more of him, demanding it, and now she told him to fight. She spoke his true name, the one she only used when they trained, the name tattooed on his heart. A heart that had not stopped beating. A heart that still had life.

With the last bit of his strength, he tore his arm free and lashed out blindly, furiously, with all his terror and rage, with all the hope that had been born and died this day. Let me make a mark on this world before I leave it.

— Demon in the Wood (2014)

I really like how they chose when and where to convert the wording from the original to the graphic novel. How it’s at the beginning when she tells him to fight if something goes wrong and it’s near the end where he remembers that

Also just seeing how the Cut was so long it cut the damn tree…

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You know it’s cool seeing it in pictures because I can see the differences they add or how they would plan a scene vs how I would’ve imagined it as I was reading. (like how that’s Morozova’s Stag in the background! Excuse me???)

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Baghra should be able to be a little cocky sometimes, as a treat (ughh with how she shaped it to the resemblance of a bear and the silent battle the Ulle and Baghra had. I love this)

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Adding the side plot of there being an amplifier that the Grisha currently are on the hunt for was super great in my opinion

(also I cheered when she used the Cut like yes strike some fear in their hearts with your power)

—————————————————————————

Eryk wasn’t surprised. When other Grisha saw the power that he and his mother possessed, they had only one of two responses: fear or greed. Either they ran from it or they wanted it for themselves. It’s a balance, his mother always said. Fear is a powerful ally, but feed it too often, make it too strong, and it will turn on you. She had warned him to be cautious when displaying his power, to never show the full extent of what he could do

— The Demon of the Wood (2014)

Having her say this quote AFTER he comes back from meeting Annika and standing up to Lev using his power is great because it just gives me more insight on why Baghra hated Aleksander serving monarchies and using the fold. He’s not only showing the full extent of what he can do, he’s practically flaunting it in their enemies faces. I think in her eyes he’s just painting a giant target on both of their backs because causing TOO much fear draws more enemies and more attention to oneself which is what she doesn’t want.

God the drawing of Baghra and all the cut trees. Damn. I am looking respectfully. —————————————————————————

I chuckled at him using the Cut. Look at how small the damage was.

With Annika wanting the bear amplifier for herself just fuck cause if you read the story then you’d know what will happen and I was just waiting for the reveal to drop.

#This post is really long #I am simply very passionate about this and all the details they made and changed #Also I am a sucker for his backstory #the demon in the wood #grishaverse #aleksander morozova #baghra morozova

[veenxys]

「Moments that made you fall in love a little more for Haikyuu boys」

⤷ Bokuto it happens on one of those late-night phone calls the two of you always make; one minute you’re laughing at god knows what, and the next the mood fades, replaced by a moment of silence; and there is a warmth and comfort in the stillness, but also an unmistakable, aching feeling of longing. as soon as you close your eyes and listen to each other’s breathing you start to wonder if he fell asleep but he breaks the silence with “wish you were here”, his voice sweet and calm, which makes your heart tighten a little while you whisper a “me too.” and that’s when you find yourself even more in love with him, even so far away you can feel him so close.

⤷ Kuroo

it’s when he starts planning a future with you; you two are lying in bed staring at the ceiling, it’s 2 am and he keeps talking about how much he wants to be happy with you and live all your dreams together; to make you laugh, he starts to give you details about what a perfect future would be like with you, what your dream house would be like, the name of your future cat/dog and even what kind of tv shows the two of you would watch together after a long day. he smiles and you turn his face to face him - his gentle expression and a genuine smile on his face make your heart race because that’s when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

⤷ Atsumu

it’s the way he takes such good care of you; washing and drying your hair for you, tucking the blankets around you, making you breakfast, giving you his jacket when it’s cold, listening to you complain about anything with so much attention and patience, buying you your favorite things, being by your side all the time and so on. every little gesture makes you fall in love with him like it’s the first time.

⤷ Osamu

it’s when you two travel with your friends and you end up getting really sleepy; he gently lays your head on his chest and strokes your hair, leaving occasional kisses on your head while holding you comfortably so you can sleep well. and in that moment you realize how much he cares about you, how much he loves you, and how much you love him back.

⤷ Kenma

when you hear him say “i love you” when he thinks you’re asleep; he doesn’t tell you that very often, he prefers to demonstrate it by small gestures or even physical touches, but you know he loves you, a lot. and something like he whispered so softly as he caressed your face made your heart race in your chest and you fall even more in love with him - even though you didn’t know it was possible.

⤷ Nishinoya

when you realize he always laughs at your bad jokes just to make you happy; sometimes he didn’t even think it was very funny, but he always laughed because the passionate face you made when you heard his laugh always made him melt and because this moment is so pure and precious to him. he always wanted to see your eyes shining and your smile, so he always laughed. and when you found that out, you fell a little more in love with the love of your life.

⤷ Oikawa

when you realize that even after so long together, his love for you hasn’t changed; it’s the little things like when he brings home your favorite candy, little kisses on the forehead and lips as a way of saying goodbye or hello, putting socks on your feet when it’s cold, taking out that part of your food you don’t like or the way he looks at you like you’re the most precious person in the world. are little things that prevailed in your relationship that make you fall in love with him even more.

⤷ Suna

it happens when he gives you one of those hugs that only he can give; the kind that start off almost casual but last longer than it should, simply because neither of you refuses to let go. it feels warm and familiar and safe in each other’s arms. at one point he snuggles closer, burying his face against the crook of your neck, you can feel his breath and his little smile on your skin. he comments how much he loves your scent and you laugh before asking him to describe it, and he takes a moment before replying, ‘it just smells like... you. like home.’ and that’s when you melt a little more for him.

⤷ Sakusa

it’s one of those deep and unexpected conversations in unlikely places, like the supermarket. it’s just that almost sacred connection you get when you’re telling someone your thoughts and ideas, no matter how simple. and you worry about bothering him or something, so you’re ready to put it all aside with an apology or a giggle, but you don’t have to because he understands, and he wants to hear you, he really does. and as he continue the conversation while putting the cereal box in the cart, you feel a new wave of love for him.

⤷ Hinata

when you catch him looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world; he tries to cover up by starting some random subject while scratching the back of his neck, but that little moment when you saw his eyes shining with love and a genuine smile on his lips made you realize how loved and admired you are, and honestly you didn’t know that you could fall in love with him even more until that moment.

#— fluffvember! ♡ #haikyuu imagines #hinata x reader #hinata imagine #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto fluff #kuroo imagine #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagine #sakusa fluff #kenma x reader #kenma imagine #osamu x reader #osamu imagine #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagine #atsumu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa fluff #suna x reader #suna imagine #suna fluff #nishinoya imagine #nishinoya fluff #nishinoya x reader

[newhologram]

In response to me saying “Cruelty and suffering are not requirements to create a strong society. ☺️” , I got these comments: but survival of the fittest and natural selection is☺️. That what life is pookie, you either blend in with society or you be “different” and get eaten alive 😘😘🥰. I used to be bullied when I was younger and for a while up until a few years ago and once I finally “gave in” and tried being normal, it changed my life. I made hella friends and connections who have helped me through life because people will accept you for being normal and when people accept you, they will boost and build you up and have your back. there is a huge difference between bulling and abuse 💀 (This commenter’s page is full of car pics. They have what is considered to be a socially acceptable interest. This is an important little detail in this conversation about “normal.”)

Pro-bullying is a very concerning worldview, because this is how people convince themselves that it’s okay to use violence of any kind on those who are different from you, simply because they are different, not because they did anything bad or hurt anyone. People who believe that “actually, bullying is a Good Thing because it makes us conform, which is Correct. Anyone who does not conform is Bad, and deserves abuse until they finally squash themselves into the mold we’ve decided is Normal.” It’s hard to understand if you’ve got any kind of grasp on empathy, or even if you don’t experience empathy but understand that differences are to be celebrated and that abusing people into hiding these harmless differences is, uh, bad? The only people I see defending bullying as some “necessary corrective action” in society are those who seem to think they turned out well and that life is great, except they really want to hurt other people for being different. Like, they’re thirsty for it. Their jaws chatter for the feeling of a slur between their teeth. They’re salivating at the thought and many can’t hold back, as evidenced by the comments I get on my “hey, bullying comes from insecure people” posts calling me ugly, stupid, weird, saying my hair is bad, my eyebrows are bad, I talk weird, I make weird faces/movements (ableism lol), my gender sucks or whatever, blah, blah. Which is strange to me because: isn’t the basis of so many belief systems, what we were taught in kindergarten is “Hey, we’re all unique and that’s by design. Be yourself! Also be kind, don’t hurt people.”

So… No, sorry. I will never agree with this stance. “Don’t be weird and you won’t get bullied”—All the things I’m labeled “weird” for are completely harmless. I’ll never be normal and that’s okay. How about just be kind to people even if they are different? Me being different isn’t hurting you or anyone else. 

What people like this fail to realize is that for many of us, there is no way to ever really “pretend” to be “normal.” We will never fit in, we’ll always stand out in some way, we’ll always be who we are. If the choice is between: use all my energy to hide who I am and still get abused just so I can have fake friendships with shallow and insecure people vs Just let go and be who I am, distance from people who don’t accept me unconditionally, make friends with cool, kind people Uh, I’m gonna go with the healthier, happier option? Wtf?

What you are saying is Good/Correct is to hide anything that is different: disabilities, gender, romantic or sexual orientation, very niche interests (which is a lifeline to ND’s)

Obsessively passionate about video games and comic books? I was “not normal” for this in the 90’s and even 2000’s. Should I have conformed and been interested in, I don’t know, boybands and pencil-thin eyebrows like my peers instead, to avoid their daily torment? Would that have made me “fit” to survive the world, or perhaps is it the bullies who are in the wrong for being horrible little devils to a child who just had different interests? (No, clearly, I was the one in the wrong for daring to exist, huh?)

Sensitive to stimuli? Probably my biggest autistic struggle, compounded by unending chronic pain. So I shouldn’t self-regulate at all, because that makes me stand out as Not Normal and make me a target? Instead of, maybe people should just accept that neurodivergent people exist and that it hurts no one if I need to decompress in a dark room and wear earplugs because my nervous system overloads easy? 

Ethnically mixed and hairy in places my white, blonde peers weren’t? That doesn't hurt anyone either. The bullying I got from my body’s natural state was so traumatic I started shaving my arms and legs at age 8. But it didn't stop; just the fact that I had hair to shave was another reason to bully me. I got called disgusting for being hairy, disgusting for being smooth. Conforming did nothing to stop the harm. Happen to be queer? Guess I should have “given in” and forced myself to be straight and cisgender because, what? To please whom? To appear more normal so I will get “acceptance and support” by people who would drop me if I wasn’t like them? How is the argument literally “either be exactly the same as us or we’ll hurt you! :)” solid in any way? It sounds unhinged. Not a social environment I would want to be part of at all. (Spoiler alert:  As an adult I have friends and a support system of people who like me for the ways I am different and myself, and that’s actually what is life-changing. That’s real love.)

All of that was “different” enough to get me verbally and psychologically (and a few times physically) abused for over a decade in school. I did nothing wrong. I was just different. 

To fit in and have a better life, I should hide all of this, because “that’s life?” What other ppl decide is normal and socially acceptable is “life”? We’re humans. We have free will. We can make the choice not to “eat people alive” just for harmless differences. There’s a reason these people try to justify it by relating to what they perceive as “mindless, empathyless” animal behavior and it isn’t good. 

And to address one of their comments: Incorrect. Bullying is a form of abuse. I endured sustained, systematic attacks on my sense of self and my body by my bullies for my entire school life and even early adulthood. That is abuse. Period.

I wanted to do a proper video reply to this but I haven’t got the spoons. I might just script this into voice-to-text at some point. 

#bullying #pro bullying #abuse #abuse surivor #bullying survivor #teku

[vickyvicarious]

It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his.

I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away from each other. [...] Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion.

I am not, repeat, not saying that Watson is wrong and Holmes was ever in love with Irene Adler. (People making that claim is consistently annoying to me, in fact.) However, I do find it interesting that he claims Holmes is bothered by pretty much all strong emotions, then immediately follows it up by saying they haven't seen one another in a while. In fact, the "he scoffs at romance" and the "since my marriage we've grown apart" seem to line up well also.

It kind of gives me the impression that they had a fight about Watson's marriage and him leaving the apartment (perhaps Holmes feared losing his friend, or was a little resentful of the change, and Watson felt hurt at the lack of support/lashed out in turn). Because, sure, Holmes is not about romance but he isn't thrown off by all emotion, he isn't an unfeeling machine. He and Watson have fun together! Watson has chronicled him laughing and enjoying himself as well as in complete despondence... he knows very well Holmes isn't a machine.

But if part of the argument involved Holmes insulting Watson being driven by "soft emotions" too much, maybe Watson reporting back "better that than being so unfeeling as not to care", etc.... or even if the same ideas were there despite nothing ever erupting into a proper fight. It fits that Watson would be bringing this up. It's him continuing to be grumpy/hurt about their relationship being strained, and calling Holmes a "former friend" only solidifies the distance implied. (He also speaks pretty disapprovingly of Holmes' drug habits in this entry, which could be another part of the argument or at least a way of him maintaining his frustration when it flags, by reminding himself of a legit bad habit.)

I'm not saying all of the above is necessarily true, just one interpretation of a few small details... but if it is - or frankly, even if it isn't and they did simply drift apart without any drama - I think it's really sweet that they resume their cordiality right away. Holmes is genuinely excited to see Watson again, and compliments him on his marriage treating him well (which in this take could be trying to make up for former comments disparaging it). He then launches right into a deduction which makes Watson laugh with delight (and impresses him in the same way they first got along) and then invites him to join in on deducing the letter/tagging along for a new case. In fact, he calls Watson his friend, says he's lost without him, and insists that he be allowed to stay. Watson for his part initially submits to the impulse to visit, and then gets caught up in deducing and slips back into assisting Holmes with ease (once it's made clear that he's still welcome) and obvious pleasure.

Regardless of exactly what caused the distance, it's clear that they still care a lot about each other and have missed one another as well.

#letters from watson #acd holmes #acd watson #i haven't read this case in a long time so if there's further context revealed i don't remember it #but i don't think there ever was hinestly

[sil-writes-fiction-too]

The Most Precious Thing In The World

Gale x OC!Tav

Genre: Fluff

A/N: this is a one-shot inspired by my ongoing run in Baldur's Gate 3 and the new epiloge that's been added to the game. @wolfhunter89 gave me the idea for this piece, so thank you bestie! This is not an x Reader one-shot, so if you do not like this sort of content, go ahead and click off of this post. Summer was my very first D&D character and I am currently playing as her in my BG3 run. She is a tiefling sorceress.

Summer would usually never find herself inside a classroom. She believes she has endured enough boring lectures as a child, way back when she still lived in Ferox with her parents and all the kids her age had to attend the local school. She can hardly remember any of the notions she was supposed to learn, unsurprisingly, and in the past she has vowed to never set foot in another one of these places ever again. Despite all that, she couldn't be more excited to be here, right now.

She feels a little bit silly sitting among all these young, aspiring, bright-eyed wizards that are simply hanging from their mentor's lips, hungry for knowledge, while she is simply here for... well, their mentor.

Gale's voice is clear and passionate as usual while he explains a concept that seems to fill him with enthusiasm and fascination. She's always liked his voice, since the very beginning, even though at first she often found it difficult to grasp what exactly he was saying, with all the embellished words he would use and the poetical way in which he would speak. She wouldn't change it for the world.

She can't believe it took her so long to finally attend one of his lectures. It's already been, what, eight months since their adventure ended and she accompanied him back to Waterdeep as his bride-to-be? Granted, she had her plate full with having to find an occupation for herself and... slowly getting used to life in her new home. After all, Summer is a free spirit, an adventurer at heart. Settling down was never really in her plans, especially after the Jaime fiasco, so naturally she needed time to adjust.

For a while she was worried she would wake up one day, realize she made a huge mistake and answer the adventurer's call, inevitably breaking Gale's heart... but it never happened. Instead, she found herself looking forward to her return home each time she embarked on a mission for the guild, whether it brought her outside of Waterdeep... or barely outside her own neighborhood. It soon became clear that whatever happened during her travels through Faerûn changed her, that Gale had a positive influence on her and that perhaps she, as well, had a positive influence on him.

None of the letters sent to Arwen since they parted ways expressed grievances over her companion, something that would instead frequently happen when Jaime was still around. She's simply, completely, absolutely in love with him, and seeing him right now in front of his students and looking so happy just... makes her feel at peace with the world.

She remembers laughing when he first came home to tell her he would start teaching, because she couldn't think of any other profession that was so... Gale. It filled her heart with content and enthusiasm, even though she couldn't quite understand why at the time. She has never felt like this for anyone in her life. She could understand the desire for connection, but being so fully invested in someone else that suddenly their victories become your own? That each and every small detail about them suddenly feels like the most precious thing in the world? That their happiness and well-being become your main goal in life? That was all unknown to her, until the day she met him.

She can't believe how quick she fell, and yet it only makes sense to her. Any other outcome seems absurd now. Since the very first day he managed to charm her, and not even once has he overstepped her boundaries or disrespected her. Not even once has he judged her for her less than ideal control of her magic, despite him being such a formidable wizard. He shared every part of himself with her and in turn she did the same with him, and they both moved forward together, grew together... broke each other free from their shackles. She can no longer imagine a life without him.

It is while she is lost in these musings, that the voice she loves oh so much suddenly pulls her out of her thoughts and back into the present.

“Pardon the long wait, I must've gotten carried away there,” he chuckles to himself, slightly swinging his arms in a sheepish manner.

With a quick look around her, Summer realizes that the lecture must've come to an end while she was so deep in thought. She can't help but smile when she brings her gaze back towards Gale and her heart almost blooms in her chest. He raises a quizzical brow at her, clearly amused by her seemingly exaggerated reaction at his presence. “What is it?” he asks.

She gets up from her seat, tail swinging happily from side to side as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his in a kiss that catches him by surprise.

“I'm proud of you.”

#my writing #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x oc #baldur's gate 3 #gale fluff #gale fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

[starpirateee]

hey no clue if you've watched starkid's Starship, but if you have, could i pretty please request a drabble of Bug struggling to live in his human body (sensory issues, dealing with his changed reflection, not knowing how facial expressions work, etc) :3

Starship is one of my favourite shows, and I am more than happy to oblige this beautiful and very real request!

It was all the promise of being a Starship Ranger. Bug had looked to those videos for his entire life, admiring every little detail until there was nothing left to admire, and then admiring them all over again. He knew the recruitment video off by heart, and had the exact tone of the Captain's voice nailed in his head.

All he'd wanted for as long as he could remember was to find a working starship with a crew, and became a Ranger in his own right. Now he'd gotten that.

Frankly, it was everything he could've imagined. Not only because the working starship was way bigger and way cooler than he'd ever thought, but because he had been given the chance to just be like the other humans on board. In appearance, he looked just like them. When his consciousness was transferred into that human body that Pincer had collected, he had first gotten excited about how exhilarating it felt to be so tall. That was a new one, and had given him a whole other perspective on his world.

At the least, he was twice as tall as he used to be, which meant that he could see everything from a much better angle, and he loved it. It felt absolutely incredible, and he was ecstatic at first.

That was about where the excitement stopped. Once he'd saved the other rangers from his planet, and once their commander formally invited him on board, things started to get a little worse, and then a little worse than that.

He could hear everything. He hadn't even realised that some things were supposed to make a sound in the first place, but the moment he boarded the starship, everything began to hit. Most notably, the various buzzes and beeps from the numerous working consoles, all creating a harmony that was barely in check. So many things were working at once that he became genuinely surprised when nobody else seemed to notice what was going on.

Before he could fully think about it, he'd started filling the empty space on his home planet with various re-imaginings of what the world would sound like if everything had a sound to it. Maybe the footsteps were this loud there, too. Maybe there were some bugs that could just… Hear the others coming from really far away, and that was a perfectly normal thing to hear…

Even when he was sitting alone in the spare bunk that Up had found for him, everything was a little too much. The bed was soft enough that even pushing down on it caused it to delve, it was way too warm in the air, and there was so much going on beyond his door that he couldn't even try and start to identify any singular thing.

That's how he ended up simply sitting on the ground in the middle of the room, away from everything. It was cooler down here, and he needed the chance to get used to everything. One step at a time, he told himself, but that was hard to do when everything had to be perceived so differently from everything else. All of it was so vastly different, too. There wasn't a single thing that felt the same as anything else. So, until he could figure out what was the easiest to get used to, this space on the ground seemed good enough.

The idea of clothes… Now that was a fun one. He liked the way his gilet sat against his shoulders, light enough that he barely noticed it, but weighted enough that he knew it was there. That was a combination he found he liked. The current uniform looked heavy- a total waste of energy, really- and he was glad his was eighteen years outdated, in a way. Sure, it made him stand out among the other crewmates, but he didn't mind that. He stood out anyway, none of them were bodyswapped insects with a dream bigger than themselves and a passion that outlived them five times over.

He was. He knew that passion and those dreams well. They were old friends of his. That's why he didn't mind standing out a little. Not just because the uniform felt better, but because he was always meant to stand out. Besides, they'd managed to convince themselves that he was a survivor of the last wreckage, which explained why his uniform was out of date. That worked for him, in any case. It did mean he got to keep this soft shirt and these trousers that didn't fit him properly but felt great all the same.

Eventually, he found the strength to get up off the floor. Once he'd decided that he was a little more comfortable in himself and the body he was going to be inhabiting for the forseeable, he saw it a good enough time to try and get used to something else. His boots creaked as he stood. He didn't even know people's shoes made sounds…

As he rose to his full height, he started to catch bits of himself in the mirror tacked to the back of the door. That was a whole other thing, wasn't it? It didn't really matter if he couldn't get used to the way things felt if he could barely get used to how he looked now… He didn't get a great look at the body in the cryo chamber before he made the decision to switch, and when it was all over, there hadn't been a chance to see what had changed. What he now looked like.

Beyond the spore of the brain leech, there was a shock of dark hair that stuck up at all angles. He'd tried to get it into some sort of order, but he didn't really have the first idea how people were supposed to do that. The mess was fine after a while; he'd figured that he could get some semblance of order from just running his hands through it until something happened. It was a little better after that, so he moved on.

His eyes were bright, but darker than he thought eyes could be. They were the colour of the soil, if a little darker. He was a particular fan of the way the light reflected in them, bringing out the colours and making them sparkle like fresh dew on a flower. He was quite sure this wasn't what Roach meant when he said everything was beautiful, but it was new and exciting, and in it's own way… It was beautiful.

Still, the new appearance was a whole lot too, and took a little more getting used to than what he knew for a fact he looked like. Staring into pools had given him enough of an impression his whole life, but now he was entirely different.

All this change wasn't good for him, he'd figured. For a while, staring somewhere between the mirror and the back of the door, he thought about February. She'd never seen him in any other way, even though he'd not come to her aid in this form. To her, this was him. This had always been him. And she'd considered that like he was just like her… Like they'd come from the same place…

He suddenly had an idea. To take his mind off how weird everything was and how much he had to get used to (he was almost guaranteeing that he was going to sleep on the floor tonight), he was going to show February around his home, so he could stand on familiar ground one last time and seeing everything he knew and appreciated while he still could.

#starkid #starship #bug starship #void offering #star mail #nova's tags → #hi :) hello starship fan :) #this ask is very autism coded and honestly. yeah #he is isnt he #also i love that you came in here with a banger request with no idea as to whether i've seen starship or not #don't worry :) i love starship more than words #also i need the court to know i named this fic 'the autism bug (literal)' in my notebook #thank you that is all

[sitp-recs]

Meddling, Menswear, and Magic - by @writcraft

Harry/Draco (2022, Mature, 18.7k)

Draco Malfoy is working in a job he hates and avoiding the magical world entirely, but he really is fine. When a bequest from Severus Snape brings Draco back to a much-changed magical world, he must find his place within it and navigate his growing attraction to Harry Potter in the process.

“Being unhappy seems like a good enough reason,” Harry says.

“Maybe I deserved to be unhappy for a while.” Draco meets Harry’s gaze and there’s a raw, open intimacy in it that makes Draco’s stomach flip.

I can’t believe I got obsessed fell in love with another fic as soon as I posted my 2022 wrap up, what is even my life 💀 I haven’t written a proper rec in 84 years and actually felt a bit anxious posting this but whatever, you only live once (or until Jan 3rd when I get back to work) etc etc. As a general rule I prefer not to rec ongoing Fest fics but I guess every rule needs an exception, right? I just didn’t want people to waste any time before checking this and closing the year with a single rec feels quite auspicious :) and maybe this will prompt MA to reveal themselves to me because I’m ready to kiss the ground they walk on

I’ve said before that my reccing process comes in waves and requires the kind of passionate frenzy that urges me to write while reading the fic, which I happen to experience very rarely nowadays. This only shows how much this story has affected me. Muggle Draco, found family, meddling Snape friends, coworkers to lovers, karaoke nights (!!!), master chef Harry, this fic has everything I adore and delivers every single detail masterfully, with heart and intent. Simply put, I am blown away. Not only by MA’s singular ability to reach inside my mind and tick my every box, but also by their build up and characterization skills, coming up with charming, fleshed-out characters and a delicious brand of playful banter that made my heart beat outside of my chest from their very first interaction at the Ministry. The unrelenting banter was so excellent and entertaining I could cry - I surprised myself giggling so many times imagining their faces while delivering those lines. Gotta love a sassy couple, peak romance!

The premise itself is unpretentious yet brilliant, bringing Snape back from the dead to articulate things and push the boys plot together. His presence is clever and powerful not only from a plot perspective, but also to help us understand a bit more about post-war Harry and Draco, as they take the responsibility for his legacy by continuing his research work. There’s a lot to unpack between Draco’s fierce loyalty and Harry’s resigned determination to see this through. But despite all the emotional depth, the vignette style, smooth pacing and light tone make it hard to believe this is almost 20k; it feels both longer and shorter, I’ve read it in one breath and was left aching for more.

The characters voices are also delight - this still snarky but also civil, restrained Draco offers a fabulous POV, and learning about Greg & Luna and about “new, older Harry” as perceived by him was an absolute joy. I’m desperate to know more about this Harry with his mellow and jaded persona, a tad mysterious and off-kilt but still lovely and lovable. I found him both charming and intriguing, in Draco’s own (again, top notch) assessment, a peculiar man indeed. And Draco is so thirst for him I could barely hold my excitement omg the tux fitting scenes are so deliciously laced with sexual tension! Their chemistry is off the charts and I melted alongside Draco at Harry’s intensity and single-minded focus. Trust me when I say the M rating is sexy enough!!!

On that note, something unique that I particularly loved about this story is how organically everyone interacts, characters often breaking tension at awkward moments with incredibly perceptive gestures or lines (e.g. the conversation with Ron or when Harry helps out in the kitchen on their first date). That made me feel even more immersed and close to the characters. Something about the way they see each other, open and tentative, gives the otherwise simple exchange an interesting nuance of tenderness and intimacy. Masterful writing 😔🤌🏼

Ugh, I can’t believe I found yet another 2022 favorite on the very last day of the year. I wish MA could have seen my face as I read their fic because I am certain the feeling of pure joy and wonder was written all over it. I haven’t felt this bubbly about a fic in a long time, it was the kind of story that gave me renewed hope to see 2023 as an open canvas, a year full of possibilities. Writing this rec took me over 45 min and nothing was able to wipe the smile from my face. I can’t thank you enough, my dear MA, for giving me such a special experience today of all days. This fic will always hold a special spot in my heart for it. Happy New Year!

Read on AO3

#drarry fic rec #erised 2022 #last rec of the year! #MA WHERE ARE YOU I JUST WANNA TALK

[dogmadiary]

Here I Go Again (And Again And Again And Again)!

When I was in middle school, my friends (many of whom I now know were not my friends) and I (I didn’t really participate, just stood and watched some of the more rowdy crowd do so) would go outside and get ahold of one of the Gaga balls and play ball with it. Our version of playing ball was a haphazard, self-destructive ritual that involved a small horde of depressed—and often quite violent—preteens chasing around the one depressed and possibly violent preteen who possessed the ball. It was passed around, alliances being made and broken within seconds of each other, and it would last all 15 minutes of our recess. I think tackling was against the rules by default, but it certainly happened—we sat together at lunch and we played ball at recess every day but it didn’t mean we all liked each other.

I had forgotten about our impromptu ball games until I came across a passage mentioning them in Anaphora yesterday. In a scene where Martyn and Atlas are investigating a certain uncle’s mysterious disappearance, Martyn calls back to her days in middle school playing ball with Atlas and Gossamer. Their game is explained similarly to my own, minus the overpowering undercurrent of dislike and malcontent.

Martyn’s middle school is my middle school—I’ve written flashback scenes for fun that bend to its geography. Gossamer goes missing during a social in the cafeteria, like the ones we used to have. Vaughn’s classroom is the same one I took 8th grade “biology” in. I remember taking a test in the back of the room while anxiously weeping, and I remember thinking about Martyn and Atticus while trying to write my answers to calm down.

So since the very beginning, Anaphora has been an object of comfort for me. This is why I refrained from publishing it my senior year and opting for AKN instead. I was sort of resentful of this decision for a while–I lacked some passion for AKN that I had for Anaphora and The Leviathan, and I hated that I was now being forced to acknowledge the fact that it was going to be very difficult for me to part with this story and put an end to it once and for all. For the past seven years of my life, I have occupied most of my waking life trying to finish this puzzle while simultaneously spending more time simply admiring the parts I'd already put together (because it brings me some comfort knowing that I am capable of creation and such).

I sat down last night on a whim and decided to start outlining part two. It has no name right now, but it will follow my obnoxious english major theme and be named after a rhetorical device (The third one is called Epistrophe for those who don't know! Epistrophe is Anaphora at the end of a sentence, and also a fantastic sounding word). I don't know if it's the new year or the new school or the new state, but I've been ushering in change with no problem. It used to be that the longer a detail stayed the same, the more fixed it became, but my remixing is proving more fun than frightening.

What if Constantine and Gwen lived together? Makes more sense, right? And what if Rose's jacket was a letterman's jacket with her name stitched into the chest (I was at a vintage store in the mall with my mom, and we found a rack of old letterman’s jackets. I looked through every single one to see whose names I'd find, and I found my mom's as well as "Eddie," which has awoken an entirely different potential change)?

I don't know, man! Just some weeks ago I was laid up in bed for hours unable to sleep because I was like, God, there is no way that AKN is actually any good. And sure, I could go and fix that, but that would mean opening that horrible google document again, and messing up my formatting again, and manually indenting 200 pages worth of unindented paragraphs again. It made me physically ill to be frank with you.

I wish I could allow myself to really, truly love what I create. I am working on that very hard. It's not that I don't love AKN–I think there are some things I need to work on before I can get there ( And one of those things is changing the fucking dedication jfc).

Another little secret of mine is that I made a resolution with myself to be more honest this year. I have no idea if anything will come of it. I think the word "honest" is partially a stand in to mean something larger–yes, I want to be honest. That doesn't just mean "stop lying."

I will start here. Today, my brother asked me if I still write, and I said yes of course. Then he asked what this book was about, and I got very flustered and was only half able to tell him, which is usually what happens.

I hope I can sit down with my friends one day and they will have the encyclopedic knowledge of Anaphora (and The Dark Tower) and AKN that I do. I am a little afraid that that is what it takes for people to Know Me. I am sitting in my bed alone right now, but I'll take advantage of it.

Apologies for the long post. Here is an in depth (spoiler free) description of the premise of Anaphora for all those interested. Here's to a lovely and productive 2024–maybe I'll even get to tell you about the Green Unicorn someday soon :) Thanks for reading.

Anaphora follows Martyn Fowler as she returns to her hometown for the first time since she was 15 after being mysteriously contacted by the kind but aloof Alder Beckett, asking her to come work as his personal assistant. Despite the obvious strangeness of his offer, she eagerly takes the opportunity to finally return, planning to reconnect with the one person she is sure still lives in town after all these years–the mother of her three best friends, Detective Rose Bordeaux. Martyn and Rose are both shapeshifters, and Martyn finds herself in urgent need of guidance.

Her plans take a fortunate/unfortunate turn when instead, she finds Rose's two remaining children, Constantine and Guinevere, instead. Rose has been missing for a month, a frightening reminder of the fates of Constantine and Rose's twins, who both went missing as young boys in upsettingly similar ways.

After finding a strange note in the pocket of Rose's old jacket, Martyn becomes sure of who is behind not only Rose's disappearance, but her brother and son's as well–but lacks the evidence to prove it. With the help of Beckett's parrot, Evergreen, and Ollie, a strange woman who insists on helping her (as well as some other for-now unnamed parties), Martyn makes it her mission to locate Rose, and thus repair her relationship with Constantine and Gwen, which seems to be becoming more strained every day.

It should be easy for Martyn, who spent many years in the care of Rose's partner, Abraham Fowler, and who has grown tough from years of lumber work up north. There's just one, glaring issue–Martyn hasn't been able to shapeshift for years, and Rose's captors might be a little more-than-human after all.

#I LOVE YOU

[actualbird]

Hiya Zak!

Lately I've been wondering, how do you write your fics? Do you have a process? A starting point?

Also, I know a major part ppl talk about in writing is "show not tell", how do you know if you're telling instead of showing? Cause I know that I, for one, would look down at what I wrote and have no idea if I'm showing or telling.

eyyo roshie-writes :DDD

ive actually answered the question on my writing process several times before. heres the latest time i answered that question in depth (answered in dec 2021), but the tl;dr is "i make at minimum 2 outlines before Actually Writing, and my outlines get Very detailed so im effectively writing each fic at least 3 times before it actually gets posted on ao3, because i apparently love to make myself suffer" jHVJHVKJFHD

but forreal, that ask does basically go thru my entire writing process, from idea conception to Actual Writing. and my process hasnt changed one bit since then. this has been my process since like, 2015 actually HAHA. it really works for me and how my brain is Built, but every single writer is different. what works for me may not work for others. like, i am Hugely reliant on outlines, but i know a lot of writers who get bogged down by outlines and prefer to write just straight to the page, and it's really fascinating and delightful to me that there are endless methods and ways to get a story out :D

what i wanted to talk about more is the "show dont tell" thing because.....

i hate that writing tip so much JHVKJDVFJKHDSFS

and u just gave me an excuse to talk about why at length! but i still also answer ur questions ofc! just.....after i talk about a whole lot of other things oops

for easy reference, heres the chronological table of contents im gonna go through under the cut (because this response got Long As Hell it's---OH GOD IT'S OVER 1.4K WORDS LONG, IM SO SORRY)

what "show dont tell" is (bcuz definitions r important)

litmus test to figure out whether youre showing or telling

why i dont like "show dont tell" (bcuz theres a time and place for both showing and telling, they both have benefits)

how i personally like to spruce up "telling"

feel free to skip over to the litmus test, since thats what u asked for! the rest is just me rambling because i am Very passionate about the benefits of "telling" HAHA

without further ado, lemme get into it!

-

what "show dont tell" is (bcuz definitions r important)

Telling is = giving the information that a sentence/scene is trying to convey outright.

Showing is = giving the information that a sentence/scene is trying to convey through description.

so in its simplest definition, an example of a Telling sentence could be, for example "The office of Luke's detective agency was often messy, but Rosa's has always known that Luke's a bit of a messy person."

meanwhile a Showing version of that sentence could be, for example "Upon entering the office of Luke's detective agency, there were discarded reports on the floor, dusty file boxes in disarray, a half empty bag of dried figs on the couch; all of which Rosa just sighs fondly at."

at this point, i wanna say that "show dont tell" is probably a very popular piece of advice because for many beginner writers or for people new to storytelling in general, the first instinct is to tell. because it's often more direct, and it's also how we generally tell stories in casual conversation, for example. like, when im telling my friend about a funny thing that happened at work, i tell them "dude this thing made me SO FUCKING NERVOUS" which is a Telling sentence. i usually dont go "my hands were shaking the entire time i was giving this presentation and my gut felt like it was twisting into itself" which is a Showing sentence, simply because the Telling sentence is easier and quicker to say.

Telling is first instinct, but reading a 5k short story that is all Telling can get pretty boring or monotonous, because what Showing has that Telling often doesnt have is Description. Showing fleshes out a scene some more, challenges the reader to surmise details on their own and connect the dots themselves, and also trains beginners to be more active in describing their scenes and fleshing it out further.

-

litmus test to figure out whether youre showing or telling

in general when youve got a Telling sentence, the information a sentence is trying to convey is most usually directly spelled out in the sentence itself.

on the flipside, when youve got a Showing sentence, the information is something that can be garnered from the descriptors of what can be seen, how other characters react, etc.

so long as a sentence is Not Outright saying the information it wants to get across, then youve probably got a showing sentence.

so if ur trying to figure out if what youve written is Telling or Showing, first ask yourself "what information am i trying to convey here?" and once you know that, look at what youve written and see how you conveyed it. did you convey this directly? or did you allude to it using details that lead to that information?

to demonstrate, let me go back to my previous example with luke and rosa. both sentences are conveying two pieces of information. 1) that the office is usually messy and 2) that rosa isn't surprised cuz she knows luke Lives Like This

the Telling sentence says these pieces of info outright. meanwhile the Showing sentence doesnt and takes more time to give details that simply allude to those two pieces of information, details like what shit luke has strewn around his apartment and rosa's reaction.

-

why i dont like "show dont tell" (bcuz theres a time and place for both showing and telling, they both have benefits)

i dont like "show dont tell" because a lot of the time, when i see this piece of writing advice, it's worded as "ALWAYS show and NEVER tell" and uh.......no, thats not right

first off, all writing advice is Not absolute. what works for one writer may not work for another writer and no technique out there is inherently Bad, it all Depends on so many factors. secondly, the balance between Showing and Telling is also hugely reliant on each writer's specific style. like, personally i love to do Telling a bunch for sentence structure variation, for humor/comedy, or for a whole lot of other reasons!! which leads me to my third point:

Telling has its uses and its benefits.

because listen......Showing is indeed really great, and like i said earlier, it pushes writers to flesh out scenes more.

but not every scene or piece of information in a story needs to be fleshed out in the way that Showing necessitates.

i like to think about it this way. Showing has the tendency to expand a scene/information, and i visualize this literally. like, if my story was represented by 5 accordions glued to each other (bear with me here), and i just so happened wanted to use Showing for everything, all of those accordions would be stretched out and expanded. on the flipside, if i use Telling for everything, all of those accordions are pushed tight together, because Telling tends to contract a scene/information.

having a story thats 5 accordions long that made up of All Telling OR All Showing is generally not how stories work. instead, stories are a mix of accordions, some contracted and some expanded, because different scenes/information have different levels of importance and value.

like, lemme use an example from chapter 2 of "yes, she’s my lover, yes, she’s a half-dragon. any more questions?" since thats one of my most recent non smut fics HAHA

over the course of this chapter, the following happens

luke realizes he needs to find out more information on ria being half dragon

luke starts writing to vyn, a scholar, who could have that info

luke travels to stellis to meet vyn

luke meets vyn at his bookshop and theres a whole situation that happens there

luke returns back to his and ria's cottage

luke and ria have a little heart to heart over dinner about stuff

of those 6 things, numbers 4 and 6 are the most important scenes to me. in the chapter, numbers 4 and 6 are the scenes that get most fleshed out, they are the most told through Showing sentences in a Showing kind of method

but the other stuff isnt as important in the chapter, but they still need to be there for logistical reasons. number 1 needs to be there to setup the reason for why this whole chapter happens, but i dont want to bog the entire chapter down with just luke Realizing He Needs More Info, so i write number 1 mostly in hindsight, and mostly through Telling sentences.

same goes with numbers 2, 3, and 5. those things need to happen to get from scene to scene, but it's not like it's narratively important for me to write out luke's entire medieval fantasy commute. i can just say "One of the kingdom’s main cities is a quarter-day’s ride away from the nearby village, and after letting Ria know that he’s off to do some errands, Luke hitches a ride with a vendor on his way to the city; Stellis." and boom, done, we're in stellis and now we can get on with the more interesting bits

Telling has its uses because a story can't always be Showing everything, because then that puts every single instance or piece of information at Exactly the same value. when it really isnt! sometimes, a guy just needs to get from point A to point B, and so long as nothing important is happening during that travel, Telling is a much more economical way to go about it. sometimes the info Needs to be conveyed, but not necessarily expanded.

and this can make the stuff that is expanded and is done through Showing more impactful or striking because of the contrast. like, in the chapter i used as an example, thats 6 accordions, but 2 are completely expanded while the other 4 are more contracted. this makes the 2 more notable because it's chock full of description, dialog, imagery, etc. it makes more of an impact than, say, luke's medieval fantasy commute, because i contracted that accordion and expanded these accordions.

additionally, i seem to see a lot of people who espouse "ALWAYS show and NEVER tell" seeing Telling as something that will always be boring and dull.

and Telling can be dull sometimes, sure, but there are definitely ways to spruce it up and make it integral to the story. which leads me to my next point

-

how i personally like to spruce up "telling"

ok it's at this point that i realize this response is now over 1.4k words long so UHHHH I'LL GO THROUGH THIS NEXT BIT SUPER QUICKLY

which will be easy cuz i actually wrote up a whole post about this before, so lemme just link it: "USE YOUR CHARACTER'S PERSPECTIVE IN "TELLING" TO MAKE "TELLING" MORE ENGAGING" POST

-

uh so. this response got outta hand jhvjhVKJHVKHJ but i hope something her can be helpful!!!

#i get uh....impassioned when talking abt writing processes and techniques jVKJVKJH #asks #roshie-writes

[tbenvs3000w23]

My Future as a Nature Interpreter

I entered this class not knowing what to expect; “nature Interpretation” was a term I had never heard anywhere. If I’m being completely honest, I still did not really understand what nature interpretation was for the early portion of the course - I struggled to understand the concept. Here in Unit 10, I now know not only what nature interpretation is, but how I fit into it.

The first concept that resonated with me was that of an “invisible backpack” (Gallavan 2005). I have always known I live a privileged life, but as silly as it sounds, writing about it for this class made me realize how many things I take for granted. Looking solely at my experiences with nature, I’ve had the opportunities to go camping at least once a year, as well as live in a house with a backyard, have pets, trips to the zoo as a child, and so much more. All of these experiences have led me to where I am today - studying environmental sciences in University, which is YET ANOTHER PRIVILEGE! I won’t go into detail on what I need to unpack from my invisible backpack, as I did that in a previous post, but the reason I’m writing this is simply to acknowledge that my audiences in whatever setting may not have had the same opportunities I have had, which might make it harder to use my experiences as topics to relate on.

Here's a beautiful park my family and I walk to a few times a year. This particular morning there were a couple feathered-friends on the water :)

I strongly believe that nature is healing to everyone on earth, and even though I have met many people who ‘absolutely hate the outdoors’, nature appreciation can be as simple as enjoying the sunset, or loving rainy days. Reaching audiences of different age groups, from different places, with different interests creates the need to look further than one's own experiences when presenting information or knowledge of nature.

As I develop as a nature interpreter, I would say my personal ethic is similar to my mentality and beliefs going about my life day to day; trying to make more kind and respectful decisions, considering myself but also those around me. To touch briefly on the invisible backpack concept once more, after completing these blog posts, I now understand how I must change my voice to appeal to more audiences. I also know how there are many different mediums I can use to share stories and information about nature, and how some may appeal to some demographics more than others which is important to take into consideration (Beck 2018).

Growing up, I knew I wanted to pursue a career working with animals. This later developed into a passion for the environment as a whole, and I ended up deciding on environmental sciences as a university major rather than zoology, which had initially been all I ever wanted to do. At a young age, and up until today, I’ve never known what I wanted to do with this desire to work within nature.

My parents have mentioned that they think I would make a good teacher because I am a very patient and passionate person, which I never gave a second thought to be quite honest. But I do think it is a path I would enjoy - I love working with kids, and I get a lot of joy out of explaining the concepts I’ve learned about. When I’m studying concepts for tests I like to get someone who doesn’t know the material to quiz me; I’ll compress what I know into the most useful information and explain it to them to help them understand it, which really helps me for some reason. I grew up with a younger brother, and he would always be interested in whatever I was interested in, so he would ask me a million questions about animals and whatever else I was interested in at the time. The one big difference between us was what we excelled at; I was quite good at maths and science, whereas he struggled with them. When he struggled with a math unit, or science concept, I loved sitting down with him and working through it. We have a 5 year age gap, so it was honestly a nice refresher to go over these things again years later. I would find myself teaching the concepts the way I wanted to be taught them, until a couple years into helping him when I realized his learning style is different from mine. This was a good experience as it allowed me to understand different learning styles, which is yet another topic covered in this course!

While teaching does sound exciting, I am not sure it is what I would want to do for a career. I think it is a wonderful way to spread the love of nature (if that were the field I ended up teaching in). I do however feel the responsibility to use my passion for spreading knowledge within whatever field I enter after post-secondary. I believe that passion is important in any job; even as I worked minimum wage fast food jobs in high school, I would go about my day with a positive attitude, as I’ve always found that a positive attitude makes my entire day better, even if I’m faking it, it soon becomes genuine.

Following this course, I strive to be more aware of my audience in all aspects of life, which will allow me to be more inclusive. My final thoughts on this course are all positive. I have enjoyed creating all of my posts because they honestly feel like a break from my busy schedule sometimes - which I’m sure many of my peers can relate to. I would absolutely recommend this course to others, especially to those not in environmental sciences, as I feel like they can learn a lot from this experience as well. Thanks to anyone who read this post, this one was a lot of fun, and I'm honestly a little sad this is the last one as I've been enjoying writing these. Good luck with your future endeavours everyone! :)

Gallavan, N. P. (2005). Helping teachers unpack their “invisible knapsacks.” Multicultural Education (San Francisco, Calif.), 13(1), 36–36.

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018c). Chapter 7: Serving Diverse Audience. Interpreting cultural and natural heritage : for a better world. (pp.105-123) Sagamore Venture.

[daydreamslikewaves]

Little mothers, bigger daughters.

So this is quite personal but it’s something that I want to post, because sadly I know that there will be many, many women out there who this is going to resonate with. It’s all about a realisation I’ve had which is helping me deal with /manage some not great behaviour which is just not ever going to change - and maybe it’ll help someone else out there. I feel like it’s personal growth for me to have reached this point, too, and it felt like a safe space to share.

TW: parental toxicity, talk about weight, food, body image.

My mum is a solid and reliable person. She is loyal to a fault and passionate about family and a very strong-willed woman. A force of nature. She is fierce. She’s gone through slightly more personal tragedies than the average human. One hundred percent, she would kill for me and my dad. All in all, we have a good relationship. But there is one aspect that has always been difficult to deal with.

I think we all know that it’s unwise for parents to comment on their children’s weight/body/diet. Even if there are genuine concerns, there are ways to tackle said concerns and ways not to. And this goes for any child/person, of any body type. But it’s something I have particularly struggled with as someone who has a very different build to my very petite mother. I am tall and athletic while my mother is absolutely tiny. There has been a lot of vigilance regarding my body, always. ‘That doesn’t look as good as you think it does’. ‘Are you sure you want to eat that.’ The ‘big-boned’ comments were meant as ‘compliments’ but were neverending. As was the focus on my posture, and how inelegant I was, and the emphasis on that I always needed to be active as if there was an undercurrent of concern as to what would happen to my body if I stopped exercising. All of this focus on my body which in turn made me hyperfocused on it. I’m that person obsessively watching myself in every reflective surface to make sure I’m standing normally. Because usually I don’t; I tend to shrink in on myself in an effort to seem physically smaller. I slouch in photos to make myself small, too.

I won’t go into detail about all of the comments I’ve received over the years, because they did get progressively worse. Some of them were extremely damaging - especially over the last two years. Me gaining 8kg over quarantine sparked endless debates. 

Recently, though, I’ve come to the realisation that a lot of these comments might not actually come from a terrible place after all; and not in the way that all those Psychology Today articles suggest (’they do it because it’s their way of loving you, even though it’s flawed, unsolicited advice etc etc’). What they say goes some way when it comes to explaining it, but.. I simply have started to believe that sometimes, it’s as simple as this:

As a petite woman, my mum just can’t comprehend what it’s like to not be petite. 

She has no frame of reference. Every woman on her side of the family is relatively small. She has been taught that petite is petite and that not-petite is big. That big can be negative. Needs someone to keep an eye on it. She does not understand what it is like to be the tallest in the class and how working out requires you to eat more to keep energy levels up. For her, good food and no bad food/less food + ‘moving your body’ (cardio only) = weight loss. No matter how much I try to explain that strength training combined with cardio is much more effective in getting leaner, she is horrified at the idea of me getting muscly because ‘that should not be your goal’. She is not a fan of tattoos but one big concern she has in relation to mine is ‘why would you want to show off your body?’. It is not said with disgust, more like a genuine question bred from genuine curiosity - she can’t fathom it. It isn’t out of spite that she feels these things but more because she a) has been taught certain things about how women should be and b) as a smaller woman her experience is completely different to mine. 

I am trying to actively remember this as I go to visit my parents this weekend as undoubtedly, the fact that I posted a bikini holiday pic on instagram will be a pressing topic of conversation. I am trying to remember that she doesn’t know how tall/curvy women experience the world. I’m trying to see it as something that makes her really confused - because this is ultimately easier than seeing it as a constant slight against my physical appearance. It helps that I now think this is the genuine reason for her comments all these years. Just wish that it had taken me less than thirty years to figure it out.

Anyway, water off a duck’s back.

(I would like to add that this may not be the case for everyone experiencing a similar situation. Some people are just shitty to the core. But for others, the situation is much more complex. This is just my perspective on my own experience.)

#personal #mother-daughter relationship #TW: body image issues #TW: toxicity #TW: relationship with food #TW: talk of weight #shifting perspective #personal growth #parents

[realfactsnlogic]

Coming Out Post - #AromanticAwarenessWeek

I’ll make it quick: I found out that I’m aroallo. But also bisexual (EDIT: with a very heavy masculine lean.) And maybe demi.

How I got to this point is detailed under the Read More:

Last Easter season, I was watching the Passion of the Christ, a Smirnoff in hand, and started questioning my orientation (again.) At the same time, I was watching my friend beside me writing yet another…saucy fanfic.

I casually betaread over my friend’s work, of course. But reading it this time made me question myself even more. As they are *that* kind of writer, there was NO romance in this fic. I’ll leave it at that since I know there will be kids reading my blog.

Reading that fic made me consider how I experienced attraction towards others. I didn’t like the sappy, sentimental romances I would see around me. I would get confused with the use of silly pet names and…whatever else the popular view of romance implies.

Everyone’s perception of romance WAS formed by the popular media, after all. Heck, I am not immune to that either! *My* idea of romance was completely different. My idea of romance, I learned, was simply that: just an idea.

On the occasions where I dipped my toes in the dating scene (at least IRL) I felt uncomfortable with romantic gestures. I’d be fine with giving them if I felt like I could, but receiving them was a completely different story.

Now, I’m no stranger to changing labels from time to time. Back then, I thought I was “just gay.” I was even willing to go back to the bi label. I’m still on the fence about this. But I know where I’m at romantically. 

And to be as discreet as possible, I found out the hard way: I broke people’s hearts. I hurt them emotionally. I burdened them with my habit of avoiding and dismissing. 

As of writing, I’m in therapy to work on this. I don’t know how long it’ll take for this to be fixed.

I avoided and dismissed *myself*, too. I thought that there was NO way I could be aroallo. I was subconsciously taught that aroallos were “heartless and selfish and only want ONE thing” Which *can* be true for some aroallos. Sometimes that IS what I am when I’m at my worst.

As I self-reflected on my dysfunctional love life, I noticed that I only chase the *ideas* of romance. The kind of romance I’d conjure in my head just won’t work in real life. You could also say it’s unhealthy if you try applying it into your practice.

Yet: I learned that aromantics have ways to express care and love aside from the ‘I love you’s and the excessive cuddling and the flowers and the chocolate and the kissing—they express it in ways that are different from the indoctrinating behemoth touted by mainstream media.

Personally, I express my love for others by simply getting into thoughtful, philosophical conversations with them. I engage in what interests we have in common, be it gaming, writing or making art--together. There’s many other ways that Society (TM) doesn’t think about often.

But I’m glad that I found a label that fits me. At least for now. 

There’s more to this story, but I want to respect the privacies of people involved, including my own. So this is all I’m going to make public.

#aroallo #aromanticawarenessweek #coming out #my story #personal #aromantic

[wishmasters-muse]

So... I Just finished playing through Stray. Here are my thoughts:

(SPOILERS AHEAD, SO IF YOU DONT WANT THEM, DONT READ)

Firstly, the art style was amazing. The colour pallet worked beautifully to set the mood of every environment, from lighter foliage to the contrasting neon and dark cityscapes. Every area was incredibly well designed to fit each mood.

Then there's the soundtrack. I am INTENSELY musically driven and if there's one thing that could disappoint in ant game for me, it's a soundtrack. This one... near enough perfection. Moments of suspense have you holding your breath, the music stiring that feeling of dread. The mellow and calm being a beautiful mix of soft piano and acoustics. And the sad and melancholy moments were fueled with gripping string pieces that break your heart that much more.

You play as a cat. (Duh). Though being a very small, vulnerable animal in a vast contrast if tall cityscapes and robots, you never once think "god I wish I was something more foreboding". Instead, you route whole heartedly for the little ginger furball, praying to god he gets his happy ending, no matter the cost. It is an interesting area. I can't list many games (if any) that you are able to play as a literal, functional cat, yet alone become so invested in their desperate fight for survival. Every ounce of passion towards this project shone through vastly woth this little stray.

And the story/ Lore. I'm usually a dead set gatekeeper of deep lore, twists, turns and enough content through lore alone to bore even the most avid readers, so seeing that there wasn't much lore from the beginning, a cat already formed and an adult in his family, going about his usual daily deeds, I was skeptical. Within about 40 minutes of gameplay that all changed. When thrown from his norm into a whole new world you are caught eith a curiosity, every detail telling the story of the history you weren't informed of. As the story continues you end up hopelessly invested and as you put the pieces together you are filled with a sense of joy, heartbreak, tragedy and a hard way of life being endured.

You build a relationship with these apocalyptic robots that are so similar to the human behaviour. You bury yourself in their economy and how they live and what friendships you make. You begin to not only sympathise but empathise with these beings. So close to our own that in its own way, it becomes a hard lesson in the way we are as a species ourselves.

The ending....

I have mixed feelings. I knew sacrifices were going to be paid. (Realising Momo made it out alive was a happy moment). Losing B-12, (who I fondly nicknamed "BT" after Titanfall 2's hero... yeah... that was some foreshadowing I could have done without), was predictable to the storyline but was still sad within B's own story. But the last scene... watching Stray leave the city, desperate for him to finally have his freedom, returning to his family, only to watch him sniff the air, and the power of the city come back on...

It didn't sit right with me. There are multiple suggested endings here. That B-12 took over the city successfully, or.. the city was closed once more. For me, I'm wanting to believe that rather then Stray sniffing the air simply to take in the light and the fresh air, that he caught a scent of his family. (I'm rarely a softy but I have to woth this one, because the alternate.. that after all of that he's on his own... NOPE!)

All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed the game. It wasn't too difficult, the mechanics were smooth and fun to use, the soundtrack was brilliant, the art was mesmerising and the story and lore ended up being the perfect balance of open ended and fleshed out. I highly recommend that anyone plays it. Not even a specific genre or crowd. Its a beautiful game.

#stray game #stray cat #cat game #cat #playstation #gaming #game review

[the-pen-is-mighty-and-so-are-you]

Starting Fresh - from wp blog, 19/04/2020

Hello, my dear visitor! I hope you are doing well and are still safe and sound. It's one week later, roughly, so I thought I'd call on you again. I'm happy to see you are armed with that hearty supply of biscuits I sent you - never again will we have a biscuit-less tea session!

As foreshadowed by my last post, this past week has been one of... learning, shall we say. I learned that things do pass, because now my feeling of 'overwhelmed' has subsided to a manageable degree. I simply took it day by day, setting myself small, achievable steps I knew I would feel accomplished for doing: for instance, setting aside a day for 'getting back to people', video-calling plenty of relatives, and going on an adventure to the big Asda (as a result of which shop I now have slightly blonde-ier hair and my boyfriend has made so-delicious-it's-actually-dangerous Oreo cheesecake). I also made sure to be kind to myself. I haven't been updating my 'Fuck it' diary as often as I 'should' but, well, as my mum Anna says, "We need to stop should-ing". Again, I've had to conscientiously change my vocabulary, making sure I recognise that I only write in it because I enjoy it, and that I haven't 'stopped' writing in it, it is simply on hold for now. And that's okay.

Another thing I learned (a perhaps basic thing, you may be thinking, considering my writing passion) is that reading makes me feel good - thank you to my parents who sent me that parcel! I'm currently really enjoying The Monkey Wrench Gang, partly because of the extensive vocabulary I've learned from it (pictured), but also the writing style has me 'hooked'. It's made me realise that reading doesn't take time away from my writing, but is part of the process of developing my style and skill. This is shown quite literally in the creative piece of writing I am about to share - but first I want to talk a bit about The Monkey Wrench Gang.

I am only about a quarter of the way through (so no spoilers please), but already it is the first piece of fiction in a while that has fully captured the attention of my monkey brain. It's written like an enhanced style of conversation, with vivid imagery constantly keeping my imagination engaged. It's easy to follow the themes and messages and plot, and because of that it's a book I could read all day, as I practically did today.

The most fascinating thing that caught my attention was the structure. It opens with a prologue detailing a dynamic event key to the story, absent of the main characters. Following this, each main character (there are four) is given a chapter to themselves to give a bit of background. In the sixth section, the characters finally meet - and from there the main plot comes into motion, but the thing keeping it driving is the prologue; the notion that at some point, these characters will be involved in said dynamic event. The result is one of anticipation, cleverly and clearly organised in the structure of the book, which is very satisfying. It has inspired me to have a go at writing out in a similar structure - in which I lay out the world and themes in one chapter, and then take the time to slowly introduce and bring all the main characters together in the succeeding characters. It's a good way to develop the world, plot and character dynamics, even if later on the story doesn't include the writing of this exercise. Have a whirl yourself!

Anyway, I wanted to include a couple of bits that I really liked from the book:

"Far beyond those galloping galaxies, or perhaps all too present to be seen, lurked God. The gaseous vertebrate."

P65 (1982 Picador Ed.)

"No one knows precisely how sentient is a pinyon pine... or to what degree such woody organisms can feel pain or fear... but this much is clearly established as scientific fact: a living tree, once uprooted, takes many days to wholly die."

P76

The first one is a favourite simply because of 'gaseous vertebrate'. I mean come on! What an ingenious, inventive way to describe that guy. The second is just a beautiful moment that captures how human this story is. I really want to thank this book and the donor of this book (Anna) for what it has taught me.

I have also learned this week when to move on, let go and (cue title) start fresh. Some of you know, and some you don't, that I have been working on a story for the best part of three and a half years. However, I have reached a point where I know I need to put it aside and give it some space. Part of the reason is because I wrote it when I was a bit younger, and lots of things have changed in my mind since then, so I feel sort of alienated by it. I might come back to it, or not, it doesn't matter too much to me - I learned a lot along the way, and I proved to myself that I can stick to an idea for a long time if I want to. It had turned into a tired marriage, and now I'm going to try something else.

Yay! New project! I'm going to try my best to use what I've learned, use what I love and write a story from start to finish. Currently, I love Edinburgh. What else do I love? Vampires! Always have, always will. What else do I love? The Monkey Wrench Gang's opening structure, baby!

The following piece of writing is a creative exercise. I'm testing the waters of a new story. Please let me know what you think of the idea, and which bits you liked best! The writing may not be the best, because this is like -1 of a draft. But I do hope you enjoy, visitor...

If you were one person, you might see a vast expanse of bare pavement, long stretches of square stones and tarmac exposed to the sun and rain and sky, but no footprints traced in water or oil; no footsteps. There’s barely a soft percussion as the rubber sole of someone’s trainer presses ahead, with legs that carry an uncertain gait, ready to run, ready to stop and go home. The birds still chirp, though their songs can hardly fill the space left behind, and the clang of the clock chime still rings out. Strange, though. The sound of proud and important metal announcing time washes cleanly through the landscape, no conversation to override it, no jostling of bodies that absorb the impact, no distant acoustic music nor yell nor unexpected snapshot of “-well, I told him to straighten his tie, didn’t I? And did he?”

“-rimark has the best prices, sure, but everything falls apart in a week-“

“-shoes! They’re so sparkly, I love them. Oh my god, look at that dog-“

In fact, the ratio of dog to people is near equalised, for every pedestrian that owns one arms themselves with a companion, the perfect armour for any questions from the formal sector. No sir, no fine please, I live nearby and was just heading for a march up Calton Hill. Is it a ten-minute walk from the high street to the hill? Maybe it’s just shy, but hardly anyone actually lives on the high street, on the street with chain shops opposite chains wrapped round park gates, with an undulating set of gardens set apart by meaningless road. Shaping the backdrop is the silhouette of a stone giant on a jagged base of cliff, so dramatic it could be a film set, a hollow and lonely castle. Its city certainly inspired sets of films.

No, people come and go, but hardly any live on the arms of the high street. Now there’s hardly any coming or going either, the train station a quiet vessel that cannot meet the eyes of the hopeful mason magnificence that is the hotel next door, and the one opposite, and over the bridge in the Old Town. The settlers are few and far between – so that means your walk is definitely over ten minutes.

I’m sorry sir, but I was in need of monument. I yearned to smell trees and grass and climb to a height where everything is clear and manageable; to see the sea – yes! We’re connected – that blurs blue with blue or grey with grey as sky meets itself in a mirror; to cast my eyes over the Victorian Roman-style structures and statues that make me feel as though Edinburgh’s all a dream.

That’s what the walker thinks, but in actuality they say much more of an apologetic compromise, respectful citizen, law-abiding wanderer. Or that’s what they say, in the scene in their head, and then they sigh and pet the head of their dog and feel reassured.

That’s what you would see, if you were one person: city dead, people trying to stay alive. Humans hiding out in a weirdly calm apocalypse. Quarantine is becoming life and life is staying quarantined. It’s a lot different from how all the fantasy novels described it would be – stark contrast to the daunting and impossible violence of the movie undead; the sound design is void of screeches or screams; there’s no vital protagonist ready to smash our problems away with a spiked bat or highly specialised doctor ready to give us back our humanity.

An eerie, beautiful, human-less city.

Similarly, if you were another person, there’s hardly a human in sight – or at least they’re drowned out by the murmurs of the drifting, the dragging, the droning. There’s a lot more space and so they’ve filled it up, expanded and stretched the crowd like a bunch of damned gas particles. A woman in Edwardian dress stands by the train station, chattering to a couple of female friends, waiting for their English pen pals to step off the steam locomotive; they carry lace parasols in delicate white gloves and the hems of their dresses hover just above the ground. A gentleman in a dusty suit that splits at the elbows bends over clumsily, bottom in the air, and sniffs a daffodil. He hesitates only for a moment before gaping open his foul jaw and snatching it, bulb upwards, yellow flower eaten by a yellowing mouth. A tall man with porcelain skin watches on as he passes, shakes his head and brings a napkin to his slightly blood-soaked teeth, red eyes both disgusted and understanding.

“Waste of a flower…” he mutters and follows the winding garden path.

“Oi!” A flower fairy smacks him in the face with purple dust. He whispers “At last” as he falls backwards and slides part way down the slope in slumber. She rolls her eyes, fists clenched, but then sees her sisters trying on clothes in H&M and buzzes over hastily. They’re trying on the latest trends from a month ago, posing in crop tops and strange sunglasses and baggy high-waited trousers. Their brother’s flapping his wings in distress as he tries to put everything back the way it was – he doesn’t want a human accidentally getting arrested for this. They’re the ones that put out our fairy circles, he thinks. The Big Winged Ones got bloody lucky with Stone Henge.

There’s wolf howls and angel cries and demon chanting, there’s magic and everything unknown clouding the air. There’s a witch graffitiing hexes on the cliffside and a confused half-human confiding in their spirit guide. Sometimes you might see something and you’re not sure how to categorise them – they have sharp teeth, but that’s it? Or they seem completely mortal? Or they’re a ball of mist with a knitted pair of eyebrows? Whatever the thing or being - big, small, or giant – they’re a glorious patchwork community thriving on the underbelly of human life and partying in the many damp graveyards that speckle Edinburgh’s body.

If you were the first person, who would have known that dancing on your empty stone slabs and ruffling the hackles of the dog was all that world? Although, perhaps some do know. Some have seen ghosts, heard unexplained noises in the night, seen flitting life-like shadows. They watch you while you sleep, they visit when you’re not looking, or they’ve spoken to you in disguise. And it’s hard to imagine, when you look at the stone spine of the city and take account of all its monuments, that it lacks some kind of spirit, some ‘other’ and that two different worlds may not somehow be intertwined.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's so fun reading through past bits that I've written. This was the start of a fantasy idea that has stayed stewing in my mind since, and is manifesting in my current writing project. I love the paragraph that describes the reality of quarantine, it truly captures what that time felt like for me. And it's a bit chaotic, but I love this writing style, so vivid and fast-paced somehow! I might try this writing exercise again sometime. (although I never got round to finishing The Monkey Wrench Gang lol)

#creative writing #quarantine #covid #monkey wrench #on writing

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 404

John 1:4

UNDERSTANDING PROPHETIC MANDATES 38: TYPES OF PROPHECY 4

Amo 3:7 CERTAINLY, THE ALMIGHTY LORD DOESN'T DO ANYTHING UNLESS HE FIRST REVEALS HIS SECRET TO HIS SERVANTS THE PROPHETS. GW

We’re still considering Prophetic Mandates declared by some of our day to day EXPERIENCES and we should dwell a little here because it can be very personal and yet obscure; even very strange.

To help us adapt to our callings, God could use real Prophets to confirm to us our future experiences.

Paul, apart from being shown by God [as promised], he had a Prophet connect him.

Act 21:10-11 During our stay of several days, AGABUS, a prophet from Judea, came to visit us. AS A PROPHETIC GESTURE, he took Paul’s belt and tied his own hands and feet with it as he prophesied, “The Holy Spirit says, ‘THE ONE WHO OWNS THIS BELT WILL BE TIED UP IN THIS SAME WAY BY THE JEWS AND THEY WILL HAND HIM OVER TO THOSE WHO ARE NOT JEWS.’” TPT

There are predictions of experiences that are WARNINGS but there are those which are simply INFORMATIVE.

You can’t stop it; you are just told so that you can prepare your heart to face it.

It takes a person who loves God and is committed to His cause to know the difference and embrace it, irrespective of perceived inconveniences.

Paul was such a person.

Act 21:12-13 WHEN WE HEARD THIS, WE AND THE OTHERS THERE BEGGED PAUL NOT TO GO TO JERUSALEM. But he answered, "What are you doing, crying like this and breaking my heart? I AM READY NOT ONLY TO BE TIED UP IN JERUSALEM BUT EVEN TO DIE THERE FOR THE SAKE OF THE LORD JESUS." GNB

That’s what most of us would readily do: avoid uncomfortable, negative situations always.

Therefore we must acknowledge that there are very many abandoned mandates because of “foreseen” discomfort.

Such people will answer God, if they even make it to heaven.

Conversely, such people will be replaced with another, ready vessel.

Remember Demas’ story?

2Ti 4:9-10 DO YOUR BEST TO COME TO ME BEFORE LONG: FOR DEMAS HAS GONE AWAY FROM ME, FOR LOVE OF THIS PRESENT LIFE, and has gone to Thessalonica: Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia. BBE

Paul was simply telling Timothy: “come and replace Demas”.

You know, it is not only about walking away from the “Cross” to embrace the World.

Some are still in Church but they have become very careful soothsayers with the Gospel just to avoid persecution and attack.

They want comfort and acceptance with the world, as Christians. They are the same with Demas.

Jer 48:10 Cursed is he who does the work of Jehovah deceitfully, and CURSED IS HE WHO KEEPS BACK HIS SWORD FROM BLOOD. MKJV

“Keeping your sword from Blood” is simply avoiding saying the hard Truth that draws violent irritation.

Demas saw Paul’s imprisonment and persistent sufferings, some of which he had to share, and it became too much for him to bear.

The problem I see with him is that he probably never came to terms with his own PERSONAL calling and direct responsibility to God.

2Ti 4:5 So be alert to all these things and overcome every form of evil. CARRY IN YOUR HEART THE PASSION OF YOUR CALLING as a church planter and evangelist, and FULFILL YOUR MINISTRY CALLING. TPT

Every believer [relevant in God’s programme] must have Personal Prophetic Mandate to follow.

1Ti 1:18-19 Timothy, my son, THE INSTRUCTIONS I AM GIVING YOU ARE BASED ON WHAT SOME PROPHETS ONCE SAID ABOUT YOU. If you follow these instructions, you will fight like a good soldier. You will be faithful and have a clear conscience. SOME PEOPLE HAVE MADE A MESS OF THEIR FAITH BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T LISTEN TO THEIR CONSCIENCES. CEV

There is no negotiation to forestall or alter details of one’s calling and related experiences.

Prophetic declarations over your life are meant to happen and can’t be changed because, like Peter’s case, that is the order about your life that will bring Glory to God.

Nothing else.

Joh 21:19 Jesus said this to show by what kind of death Peter would bring glory to God. After saying this, Jesus told Peter, "Follow me!" GW

Jesus said to Peter “follow me”, meaning “you have no other life than this and you have nowhere else to go”. Should Peter have rejected this Mandate, he had to hear another hard truth.

Luk 9:61-2 Someone else said, "I will follow you, sir; but first let me go and say good-bye to my family." Jesus said to him, "ANYONE WHO STARTS TO PLOW AND THEN KEEPS LOOKING BACK IS OF NO USE FOR THE KINGDOM OF GOD." GNB

It’s actually better to ask God [early in life] to reveal what your future holds, while comporting yourself to be ready for anything from God, than to wait till something “sour” is predicted.

Lam 3:27 It is good for people to endure burdens when they're young. GW

May God help us align with our life Mandates, IN JESUS NAME.

Come back on Wednesday, for more of this insightful and enlightening Sub-Subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Monday, September 11, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[0dotexe]

Musings-22.Exe

As the year comes to a close I am left to reflect all that has happened throughout, of course at an ungodly hour. It was a difficult year to trying to deconstruct a lot of nonsense that I went through && was incorrectly taught only to realize the opposite was true instead.

Slowly, gradually, I am becoming more human than I was ever was allowed to be before. I have my husband to thank for that.

What is the point of writing this?

Contemplation is the soup of the overthinker. I have had a lot of time to think about things throughout my life. I won't get into exact details about what I have been through && what I have remembered. I am simply writing this to be able to collect my scattered thoughts.

I do feel a little sad that I was only able to really come to some of my own conclusions at the age of 27. "How embarrassing," I think to myself, while slowly realizing that my life didn't give me a choice in the matter. No matter how hard I think I could change things, I was set up to fail from the start.

I see people I once knew in my tangible life, back in my sickly small hometown, have their careers flourish, whilst I sit from the sidelines && can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Then I look at those who are struggling just as I && wish I could do something, anything, to help, but can't.

What can I even do when the only thing I can do well feels like it has become obsolete?

The world has made art feel obsolete (moreso than years prior, since the concept of a starving artist is nothing new), && as someone who was once so passionate about the craft that I did everything in my power to spite someone who died before I could show him I could do it, I feel passionless to continue. What doesn't help is that since graduation (in mid 2020, great timing as always, me) I have found myself at a brick wall. Hundreds, possibly even thousands of job applications ghosted or denied. While it is wise to not take the rejection personally, it's hard not to when it bears no fruit to begin with. Others make the process look easy, but for me, it is the tallest wall to hurdle over, && damnit I'm short.

I kick myself with regret quite often these days.

Don't even get me started on the myriad of flashbacks I had throughout the year. All either tragic, depressing, or just downright frustrating to wrap my head around. Times where the adults in my life needed to set an example, protect me, && they refused to do so. Expecting me to figure it all out at young ages. Expecting me to make sense of things that could not be explained. Expecting me to live in agony because a system denies help without proof. && for what? Valor? The *very much dead* American dream? The possibly to say "I got through this && ended up okay"? Because I damn sure didn't.

I will have to depend on others for the rest of my life, && it's their fault.

I would never wish this life on anyone. However, if someone is going through a life of turmoil at every turn, or is deconstructing that life years after the hurt has passed, know this. As cheesy as it sounds, there are others out there that understand your pain. The world owes you nothing, but you can still make a life fulfilling for yourself with at least one good friend on your side. If you need one, I can try my best to be one for you, so long as you're willing to put in the work. I cannot waste time with those who only need a fleshy punching bag to throw their trauma to && not care for the reverse to happen in kind. I've dealt with that enough in my life && am not tolerating it anymore.

For those who have read to the end, thank you. I know it was a lot to read.

I used to make read mores like this all the time when I first used tumblr back in the early 2010s. I'll try not to do them as often, but when I feel the need to write I'll do so. Tumblr has felt a lot more safe to me than twitter ever was, && I can only hope that feeling stays.

⬖.Exe

#exe talkz #mucho texto #between the flashbacks and deconstruction of terrible ideas I've had a hard year #All I can wish for in the next one is survival #anything else that comes is a bonus