#anyway that’s it for today’s unrelatable post

[msmargaretmurry]

per your request for asks and also that post about how writing porn is the devil (tru) would LOVE to hear about how you approach sex scenes from a ~craft~ perspective

thank u jess for another excuse to talk about WRITING ✨✨

so the first thing about writing sex scenes, imo, is that you have to embrace that sexiness, hotness, turn-ons, etc, are all personal. there is no universal sexy. the things that i think are hot in a sex scene might get neutral or negative responses from other people. and i don't just mean in a your-kink-is-not-my-kink way, i mean even little things like how kissing is described, the words used for body parts, pet names, dirty talk, etc. so the first rule of writing sex scenes is to free yourself from trying to cater to other people's tastes.

unless you're writing a gift for someone, lol. then you can think about their tastes, obviously. or like, in general, there's nothing wrong with being like ooooh my friends are gonna love this. but it's smut, for god's sake. free yourself and get horny* about it.

*a note on "get horny": maybe you are not a horny person. maybe you're ace, or find the horny part of the equation unrelatable for other reasons. in that case, free yourself and get creative. free yourself and let your characters get horny.

anyway. that being said. some thoughts on Crafting A Sex Scene.

the main complaint i tend to hear about sex scenes is that they feel generic, or predictable, or that (for sex scenes that are part of longer stories) they could be removed from the story and the story wouldn't lose anything. so as a writer i'm obviously like, okay, how do i make my sex scenes unique and engaging? there are only so many sex acts in the world, and and even smaller number that whatever set of idiots i'm writing about at a given moment would think of or be into. most sex scenes are going to be about the same handful of sex acts. we are all sisyphus pushing our horny boulders uphill trying to craft a good sex scene only to have to start from the bottom again the next time our characters want to fuck nasty. what is a poor writer to do?

well, the good news is that people have been finding the same handful of sex acts hot for like, several millennia now. this isn't to say don't branch out and get creative and/or kinky — please do! but also in my humble opinion you definitely don't have to think of new and exciting ways for people to have sex to write an engaging sex scene.

for me, the number one driving force in a sex scene is my point of view character. how are THEY experiencing the sex scene? i think about what they are noticing, feeling, wanting, etc. especially the noticing. if they're banging hottie mcbeefcake, "oh hottie mcbeefcake is so hot" isn't a really compelling or even hot description. what my pov character notices about their partner not only conveys the scene to the reader but tells us things about the pov character through what they're noticing: what do they find attractive, interesting, a turn-on? in what ways are they aware of their own body? how do they react to being touched? i try to branch off of the obvious things someone is probably seeing or feeling in a sex scene and zoom in on things that are specific to my character.

additionally, i think it's also important to know what your non-pov character(s) are thinking/feeling/wanting/etc. a lot of that might not make it onto the page, but it's really helpful for me in trying to write a scene that feels like distinct people interacting instead of bodies going through the sex motions.

speaking of the sex motions. i am huge advocate of that post (that you helpfully reblogged today) that's like "sex isn't sexy unless it's a little bit gross." because yeah! sex is gross!! don't shy away from the sweatiness and stickiness and squelching and hairiness (when applicable) because you're afraid it'll turn people off. sex is gross. that people do it in spite of the grossness (and sometimes to revel in the grossness) is part of the hotness. ymmv in terms of level of grossness, obvs, but grossness is part of sex. let it have its moments.

in addition to grossness: awkwardness. uncertainty. discomfort. imperfection. let your characters be human before, during, after sex. let them have to communicate to make the sex good. let them not communicate and let it cause problems. imo any/all of these things can be included and you can still have both hot sex and a good sex scene. you can (and should!) think about how consent is working in your sex scene, but you don't necessarily have to spell it out or have your characters have a whole-ass conversation about it. or maybe they do have a whole-ass conversation about it. totally depends on what is appropriate for your story, your characters, and the sex you want to write about.

more to the topic of generic/predictability, there's that joke about how all gay sex in fanfic is the exact same "one finger/two fingers/penis" penetrative sex scene, and like… well, it is a joke for a reason 🥴 not that there aren't good sex scenes that use that formula, but i feel like it's so ubiquitous that sometimes people write that as their sex scene by default, or because they know it's what's expected, as opposed to because they think it's the best way to write that sex scene. i'm not even going to get into the whole "not everyone wants/likes/needs to be fingered before anal sex" of it all; instead i am going to say that i think it's always worth (once again) thinking about your characters and the purpose of the sex scene within your larger character or story arc. for example, if the goal of the sex scene is to show an escalation in trust and intimacy, think about what trust and intimacy really mean to your characters and what different ways to show that are. we loooooove to let penetrative sex be shorthand for trust and intimacy — another thing i am not going to get into, and also, we all live in this wretched society, i'm not going to judge anyone for using penetrative sex as a shorthand for trust and intimacy. i've done it! i've read it and found it both moving and hot! if it works for your characters and your story, 100% go for it! but it doesn't have to be. and that's worth thinking about!

more to the skippableness: firstly, if you are simply writing smut for smut's sake, that's wonderful and i applaud you. carry on. if you're writing a sex scene as part of a longer story and you don't want it to feel skippable, i think the best way to go about that is to think about, as with any other scene, how that sex scene is moving the story forward — in more than just a "and now they've had sex" way. this is a lot of the character-driven/thinking about the filter of your pov character stuff from before, but also how does the sex change the stakes of the story? what do your characters learn about each other or themselves during the sex scene? the story shouldn't pause while they're boning.

this is getting uhhhh long now, so i will leave off with one more thing i think about when writing sex scenes, which is what i think of as the We All Know How Sex Works rule. which is basically, i'm allowed to gloss over things. some things i might describe in excruciating detail, but if i'm doing my job well, i do not have to describe every physical part of the sex for readers to follow the sex scene. readers are smart people. they'll get it.

#ask #writing #wrote this instead of writing the sex scene that comes next in my wip lmaoooooo

[finitevariety]

can we hear your argument about the correct way to understand bronte’s ‘the professor’?

warning that there's an EXTREMELY long post below. Don't click 'Keep reading' unless you're sure you can face it.

The correct way to read the novel is as a satire. I say this not because it's necessarily the accurate interpretation, but because it's the most interesting.

I'm excited to get into this, but first let's tie it back to the post I tagged earlier by seeing what reviews for The Professor indicate about the state of critical thought today (the prognosis is grim).

Typically, reviews fall into two camps:

One: Charlotte Brontë is a stupid fucking woman who betrayed feminism and therefore doesn't deserve rights anyway. Why did she write about a main character who's so RUDE?!

Two: Charlotte, you've done it again! Truly this is a romance for the ages! Can't wait to call my husband 'monsieur' for the rest of my natural life! This truly is a marriage of equals! Go feminism!

There is also a secret third type of terrible review that's basically 'this is your brain on mid-10s ~feminist~ internet', in which feminism was less about gaining power for cis and trans women of all races, but more of a vehicle to advance the nebulous idea of empowerment.

'Not like other girls but make it a poorly-drawn webcomic' vibes, you know?

Bluntly, nothing here admits to the possibility that Brontë might have been aware she was writing about an unrelatable, flawed asshole, and that that might have been exactly what she wanted to do.

I don't pretend to be an expert about Victorian literature or criticism of such, but the dominant opinion over the years seems to have been that The Professor is first-draft back-of-a-drawer stuff that was deservedly rejected by 9 publishers and languished correctly in said drawer before being posthumously released. For some, it's the Go Set a Watchman of her canon.

Many lean into the idea that The Professor is a wish-fulfilment fantasy concerning the married headmaster under whom she studied in Belgium, and with whom she was certainly infatuated. I do think this interpretation can be convincing—and it's been covered elsewhere by smarter people than me, so I won't bother.

What I'm going to do is look at why I think satire is a far more satisfying interpretation that does have justification in both the text and its context. I'll look at:

The Professor as a parody of the Victorian self-help genre; and

The unreliable narrator, more broadly

I was also going to examine the novel in relation to Brontë's other work, and particularly Villette, but the post was fucking long enough already. I really do apologise for its length: please know that this is me attempting to be concise.

The Professor as a parody of the Victorian self-help genre

There is a plague of whiny nerds who call themselves bookworms yet get scared and call the lit-police when the moral of a story isn't laid out at the end like an after school special. For years now, these #amwriting fucks have considered 'not-chris-evans.jpg' the ultimate gotcha on interminable twitter threads.

This shitty mic-drop fails to consider that there are some people for whom purpose and target will always be unclear. If Twitter had existed in the 1700s, there would be people incandescent with rage that Jonathan Swift wanted to buy and eat impoverished babies. One only has to look at what this supposedly literate group did to Isabel Fall to know that to make satire intelligble to these people you'd have to break out the crayons.

Another important consideration is that satire which was clear within its time can, bereft of context, seem earnest. It's my argument that this has happened to The Professor.

Heather Glen, in her 2004 book Charlotte Brontë: The Imagination in History, makes the compelling case that The Professor is written as a fictional example of a self-help genre which was popular at the time:

It is not a clumsy fictionalization of autobiographical concerns; or a draft for its author's later, more popular works, but a novel of a very different kind (p34)

She identifies Brontë's Preface as a key signpost, linking its explicit references to themes of self-reliance and discipline to the maxims so popular in the genre.

These references continue throughout the novel, with Crimsworth making much of his industry, effort, and self-restraint. But there are clear and telling differences between these self-help narratives and the life led by Crimsworth.

This might as well be him, right down to the decision to broadcast to the world.

Self-help was, as the name suggested, focused on the individual—authors such as Craik and Smiles argued that poverty was caused by personal irresponsibility and conversely could be alleviated by discipline. (As a side note, the self-help trend did coincide with 'mutual improvement societies', a more radical movement created by and for working class men to educate themselves and participate in political life.)

The bootstrap-bios of the self-help genre are exactly what you'd expect. In the conclusion to Volume 1, Craik highlights the promised reward, if one only puts one's mind to it: joy.

Crimsworth is set apart from these heroes of self-help because he is so bereft of positive emotion. In fact, his entire worldview is poisoned: to him, existence is impersonal, violent, and hostile. I'll swing back to Glen for this, because she lays out in significant detail just how paranoid and brutal his mental landscape is:

Crimsworth is the empty, sad shell which houses all hustle culture rise and grind don't-deserve-a-bedframe fundamentally pathetic fucking idiots of the Victorian Era, and Brontë is, I argue, lampooning this sigma male grindset nearly 200 years before the rest of us. His self-strictness curdles the supposed happy ending, and it's so fucking good if you interpret that as deliberate:

again, Glen:

the scene in which he proposes to her is charged with half-suppressed violence: he holds his beloved in 'a somewhat ruthless grasp' and insists that she speak his language, not her own. She, for her part, is 'as stirless in her happiness, as a mouse in its terror'

He professes contentment, when they marry, but there is never any peace to be found. Yet, for the story to end, and for him to consider it a story worth telling—one where self-discipline and hard work won the day—he must pretend at it. He might even believe it—but are we supposed to do so also? I don't think so.

2. The unreliable narrator, more broadly

Crimsworth tells us that:

The other day, in looking over my papers, I found in my desk the following copy of a letter, sent by me a year since to an old school acquaintance...

To this letter I never got an answer...what has become of him since, I know not. The leisure time I have at command, and which I intended to employ for his private benefit, I shall now dedicate to that of the public at large. My narrative is not exciting, and above all, not marvellous; but it may interest some individuals, who, having toiled in the same vocation as myself, will find in my experience frequent reflections of their own. The above letter will serve as an introduction. I now proceed.

Crimsworth refers to this person (Charles) in distant terms. He's an 'old school acquaintaince'. His fate is unknown, but this does not keep him up at night. Crimsworth implies that there's less affection there than utility: he'd intended to bestow on Charles the dubious gift of this tale, and now it's our turn instead. In the letter, too, he's at pains to point out that he would never lift a finger for him, especially for rotten work:

you were a sarcastic, observant, shrewd, cold-blooded creature; my own portrait I will not attempt to draw, but I cannot recollect that it was a strikingly attractive one—can you? What animal magnetism drew thee and me together I know not; certainly I never experienced anything of the Pylades and Orestes sentiment for you, and I have reason to believe that you, on your part, were equally free from all romantic regard to me.  Still, out of school hours we walked and talked continually together; when the theme of conversation was our companions or our masters we understood each other, and when I recurred to some sentiment of affection, some vague love of an excellent or beautiful object, whether in animate or inanimate nature, your sardonic coldness did not move me. I felt myself superior to that check then as I do now.

but he writes, anyway, not for Charles's benefit, but because he wants to be heard and understood as he was then. The companions have changed, but if there is anyone who will agree with him about their character and motivations, he believes it will be sardonic, cold-blooded Charles.

Yet Charles did not reply, and so he turns to us for vindication.

Am I reading too much into this? I don't think so. Here's a fragment from a reworked Preface which would have replaced this first section and given us an alternate explanation for the existence of the text:

I had the pleasure of knowing Mr Crimsworth very well—and can vouch for his having been a respectable man—though perhaps not altogether the character he seems to have thought he was.

Here, the signposting is even clearer: we are not to take Crimsworth's tale entirely at its word.

Catherine Malone highlights this fragment when she examines Crimsworth's perception of his relationship to sex.

while at the beginning of the novel he declares an interest only in women with 'the clear, cheering gleam of intellect' (p. 13), asserting that for a professor, feminine 'mental qualities; application, love of knowledge, natural capacity, docility, truthfulness, gratefulness are the charms that attract his notice and win his regard' (p. 120) ...

the puritanical image he presents is continually undermined by his regard for physical beauty, manifest in his obsession with the boarded window in his bedroom at M. Pelet's, and his observations on his female pupils and the women with whom he has already come into contact. During the party at brother's house, Crimsworth is not introduced to the 'group of pretty girls' surrounding Edward and feels that he can take no part in the dancing: 'Many smiling faces and graceful figures glided me-but the smiles were lavished on other eyes-the figures sustained by other hands than mine-I turned away tantalized' (p. 24). Similarly, it is Mlle Reuter's outer rather than inner charms wh chiefly attract Crimsworth. It is he who nearly falls in love Zoraide and she, confident in her relationship with Pelet, who with his affections. Although any relationship between the two had been largely of Crimsworth's imagining, on discovering the engagement, he considers Zoraide and Pelet's deceit an act of 'treachery' (p. 112)—one which does not just cause him momentary bitterness, shame, or embarrassment but temporarily extinguishes his entire 'faith in love and friendship' (p. 111)

What Crimsworth tells himself about his desires is at odds with his reactions.

One final aspect to discuss (because I really need to finish this post up and go to bed) is gaze. In The Professor, being seen is understood as an assault; The Professor exists, we are told, because Crimsworth wished to present his tale to 'the public at large'. When Crimsworth has a narrative he thinks he controls, he'll share it—but even in the bounds of that text it's clear that he bristles under scrutiny.

Glen compiles near-endless examples of references to sight and seeing in The Professor, but I'm most interested in the way that plays out in interactions with his brother.

His first meeting with his brother is described like so:

my mind busied itself in conjectures concerning the meeting about to take place. Amidst much that was doubtful in the subject of these conjectures, there was one thing tolerably certain—I was in no danger of encountering severe disappointment; from this, the moderation of my expectations guaranteed me. I anticipated no overflowings of fraternal tenderness; Edward’s letters had always been such as to prevent the engendering or harbouring of delusions of this sort. Still, as I sat awaiting his arrival, I felt eager—very eager—I cannot tell you why; my hand, so utterly a stranger to the grasp of a kindred hand, clenched itself to repress the tremor with which impatience would fain have shaken it.

He will concede to feeling eager, but he cannot—will not—tell you why. After all, he has moderated his expectations! He does not hope! Fuck off!

He hardens himself still further, and in so doing insulates himself from disappointment—or, indeed, connection:

I can't help but feel like it is deliberate on Brontë's part that we see his professed successes as defeats. This is a man who despite all his hardness and his flaws has found himself a wife—but is that worth anything? Has he allowed himself to be understood even as much as he was back in his schooldays with maybe-dead 'acquaintance' Charles? Does he feel even a fraction of the contentment he thought he would, if only he followed the rules? Does his wife?

Towards the end of the novel is a terrifying passage that demonstrates, imo, that Frances, his wife, knows his deal far, far better than he does. Their pal, Hunsden, shares a miniature of a woman he was once into, Lucia, admitting that 'I should certainly have liked to marry her, and that I have not done so is a proof that I could not.'

In Crimsworth's list of desirable attributes from above, it is docility that ranks highest, and Frances knows it. She loves him, as other passages show, but she also sobbed as they were married, and in the scene before the wedding criticised Hunsden for an attitude that Crimsworth demonstrates throughout the text: being a facts don't care about your feelings dipshit.

so: it is very fun to interpret The Professor as a surprisingly relevant satire of the self-made man. I think there's ample justification for this in the text, which repeatedly and deliberately sets up and exposes the contradictions in character that Crimsworth himself cannot see.

I can't decide whether it's worse to assume Brontë didn't know what she was doing when she wrote about this dickhead, or that she did and he's wonderful actually. Perhaps one of those interpretations is even correct—but I am a huge fan of unreliable narrators, and I think it's 100% defensible, and far more interesting, to see Crimsworth as one.

#when i say long post i mean it #charlotte bronte #this fell off a bit at the end because it's midnight #haarping on #there is an upcoming branwell segue in bfo that i'm gonna make everyone's problem

[teaandinanity]

Unrelatable aro-ace rant and slight spoilers for something in the first half of the third Scholomance book ahoy:

So, here’s the thing. The entire reason I, very deeply aro-ace to the point that I was deeply repulsed by the idea of sleeping with someone I wasn’t absolutely twitterpated about even when I was absolutely being COOKED in a stew of adolescent hormones, enjoy romance in fiction? Is because it’s usually written to be in a slightly altered register. In reality, a relationship in which two people love each other as intensely as I like to read about would be codependent and unhealthy. But that intensity makes it possible for me to believe in it, to feel something along with the characters, in a way I usually don’t. (Your aro-ace friends are not good people to talk to about relationship troubles because I have actually said ‘why do most women settle so hard they leave impact craters’ about allo relationships. I have probably said something in that vein more than once. I can, will, and do appreciate when a friend’s SO is being cute and I’m delighted when the people I love get the affection they deserve, but when things are rough I’m far more likely to be like ‘do you want me to beat him up’ than I am to say anything remotely constructive.)

Anyway. Codependency! Not healthy IRL. It’s still what I want to read about, because I find the idea of One Person As An Exception far more plausible than being allo. Yes, I know most of the population is allo. No, I do not care. I have no idea what that’s like; it is an alien planet that I have never visited and do not want to even do a flyby of, and I find the idea of any of that nonsense happening to me KEENLY upsetting.

Which is why when a book introduces me to a pair (or a trio! My usual reaction did not happen in Iron Widow because it was made clear to me before the book was out that it wasn’t a triangle and would resolve with poly and because the level of devotion was at that heightened register where in reality it would probably be terrifying.), I begin looking to be convinced.

I want to be convinced, but I do require convincing. Basically, I find primary sexual attraction less plausible than actual magic.

Which is why I’m probably never going to reread The Golden Enclaves, if I manage to finish. I stopped and I’m having to mentally beat myself to try to keep going.

I have the audiobook because I couldn’t pick up my preorder this week, and I’m not in a hurry, now. I paused it and I haven’t turned it back on, even though I usually like to have a podfic or audiobook going in the morning just for background noise.

I saw the idea that El might sleep with Liesel floated somewhere before release and I was angry about it at the time - that couldn’t be possible! Liesel was introduced in BOOK TWO! How would that even make any sense as part of a romance arc! - but I’m now very grateful to whoever posted it. Because if I’d tripped over that chapter unexpectedly, I would not be writing a vent post, I would probably still be crying. I can already tell based on this reaction, post-thought-innoculation, would have been like the time I hit a squick in an in-progress fic because I failed to read the tags, and THAT apparently managed to trigger me because I spent the rest of the day weepy and sick and the rest of the week upset.

Instead… well, I’m still upset and I WANT to cry but have managed to refrain.

I know this is not a relatable problem. I just needed to complain, because now that it’s morning and I’m not exhausted, I was too upset to just go back to sleep until my alarm. I have to go to work today and I cannot pull off ‘wide-eyed and tearful.’ I am not a Disney Princess.

But god, I hate that I’m now so upset at a protagonist I loved and I feel so uncomfortable in her head that I don’t want to go back in.

#babble tea (blacklist this for less chatter) #this is not at all relatable #and it's a rant post #basically if we've never spoken you probably shouldn't read it #the inside of my head isn't interesting it's just unpleasant #also I'm not really looking to talk about it but sometimes you need to scream into the void so it FEELS like you talked #I'm tricking my brain into thinking I've had emotional catharsis so I can have a workday #if listening ears are not available the staring void is fine

[sandywaygalaxy]

Well, Hello everybody it's me Asma. Now we say it with one "a", Funny ha?

I missed writing, but I cannot bring myself to write. Or honestly I cannot bring myself to read what I write, or to pause and see inside.

I talk about feelings and thoughts all day long but it's like watching a sci-fi movie that you get but can't relate to. I think my thoughts are running too fast that I myself can't catch up with them. Writing is an amazing way to slow down especially if no body is there to read.

Side thought: I think I am too scared to exist, but I want it too bad to stop trying.

Anyways, there is this woman Mona El Tahawy, she's an Egyptian American. Well, yes living in the US changes you but being raised by an Egyptian woman, trust me, it sticks. She's in her 50s and it's inspiring to look at her, unrelatable but inspiring to see her flowing with her menopause, reflecting on the hell of the life she had. Today, she posted photos of her 20s, and she fuckin looked like me. Unsure, beaten, passive, and worst of all waiting for something to happen and waiting to like it. She writes in this post about how life changing it was for her to want, instead of "not wanting" stuff.

I honestly have wanted stuff, but it was defeating. Wanting for me meant to wait, to wish and to pray. All I could do was to show up, and I did show up but you need ounces of luck to make that enough. Now though, I could do almost anything, but it is so hard for me to believe it. Who would have thought that I will be able to say out loud what I want, and walk miles and miles in its pursuit.

Honestly, in my childhood and teenage years I think all I wanted was to have everything I might want without wanting it. It was scary to need things or to want them. I stopped it. To want something is to be weak and vulnerable, unless you woke up, washed your face, said it outloud and moved one step in that direction. And yes vulnerability is still there, but it's graceful and strong, and says something about you.

I hope it's of any consolation to my teenage self to know, that hope does not have to be defeating, and that I can hope and not be hope. I can need and not be the need, and I hope this is enough for her to forgive us for wanting things so bad, that it broke us.

[reggiefaer]

Saturday Novel: I've been gifted a time of unemployment and reflection post-pandemmy. Today I'm organizing my space better to be successful in upcoming busy months. I found some great photos of me as a kid. . Being a military kid meant I had an extraordinary childhood. Moving to America after years of international school and living in Europe was weird. I spent a lot of time trying to fit in and made to feel like I was 'showing off' or 'unrelatable' just because of my experiences. 🤣 I also think spending most of those formative years in #rotterdam made me too direct and matter a fact, which I struggle with as an adult ...the Dutch, amirite or amirite? 🇳🇱 . I think this (normal) otherness was really why I felt a calling in #sideshow . I wasn't born different, or had some chip on my shoulder about society. I just had a lifetime of trying to fit in. New friends, new schools every year. It felt like a curse for a while. I'm really embracing the otherness as a blessing these days. . Anyway, here's a couple of great photos from the summer of '82 I still have a killer fashion sense, perfect curls and summer tan ❤️‍🔥 . #greece #travelingperformer #travel #armybrat #sideshow #circus #exceptional #childhood #california #sacramentoartist #reggiebugmuncher #thankful #blessed #luckyme (at Odeon of Herodes Atticus) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoiUG0cSABV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#rotterdam #sideshow #greece #travelingperformer #travel #armybrat #circus #exceptional #childhood #california #sacramentoartist #reggiebugmuncher #thankful #blessed #luckyme

[chanelslola]

School spirit can suck my sweaty, janky balls <3

i was the dorkiest, most unpopular and forgettable human being in high school, and i kinda loved it. 

this topic is generally quite difficult to talk about cause everyone's high school experience was different and unique in it's own little way, so if this post feels unrelatable in any way, uh...at least you read something cool today:).

i have a bone to pick with SOME high schools. there seems to be this phenomenon with...being...somewhat likeable and very involved in like almost everything. you know, that one person who's at every school gala/sporting event and is the loudest supporter for the school team, has the highest grades and even has the teachers broadcasting this fact to the other students in class, and is probably dating someone conventionally hot in the grade because #nolosersallowed:p .

i have no hatred towards those kinds of students, by the way, i think its great to have an amazing high school track record, and some people are GENUINELY like that - you cant help it if you love sports (or anything that requires team building), have good connections with your teachers or being overall likeable by your classmates - not everyone like that was a clout chaser. it's perfectly fine to be an easy-going team player. 

what i dont like (in fact, FUCKING RESENT), is when having these personality traits/interests is forced onto other people who Just. Aren't. Like. That. my high school in particular, had this tendency to make it seem like this kind of personality was the only one that existed out there and if you didn't at least emulate or want to be like the star student...you were destined for failure - like, for life. 

this is where my unpopularity became a drop-kick in the sack. one thing i can appreciate about being shy and an introvert in high school is the sense of anonymity. i was alone...like a lot. i spent breaks in the library, literally no one had a crush on me, and i didn't have many people i could consider/call a friend. i was irredeemably unfuckable. but, it gave me time to take a step back and look at situations for what they really were without peer pressure/any outside influence, it gave me time to actually choose who i wanted to be friends with and build authentic connections without wondering if my popularity was the only reason they cared about me, and most importantly it teaches you how to spend time with yourself without depending on other people's energy to make you feel worthy.

all of that sounds healthy and mature but the reality is that it became lonely at times to be fully accepting of the fact that i'm not living the glorified 'teenage dream' that American high school movies portray because either everyone is aiming to be the popular kid with tons of friends while building their own little cliques of yes-men or they were too scared to fully accept that they were just different people so instead of just being themselves and hanging around people they actually like, depression sets in and they either dropped out of school and did home schooling, changed high schools or attempted suicide. 

the obsession with popularity came to a point where even the teachers were treating the more outgoing, social media obsessed and conventionally attractive students better than the other ordinary students - they enabled it. it wasn't even about the grades anymore. it reached this gross threshold of certain students being glorified for just being...Everywhere. and bullying became more and more common with each passing day. kids who didn't have social media or preferred to mind their business or who were just weird and indifferent or even students who came from lower class families/backgrounds and were there because of a bursary, were bullied to HELL and back. a student's finances determined how well you were treated. it became a petrifying level of ungodly. (affairs between teachers and students became a thing too, but anyway...)

i spoke about it to the school therapist one day, and she told me "maybe you should just suck it up and have a bit of school spirit, ya know?". fuck you Sharon.

and now that we're here, fuck that high school for instilling this idea that being different, unique or having just basic human problems made you a bad student and you'll forever be a failure for the rest of your life. WE WERE KIDS. as an adolescent you are in the stage of your life where your body and your mind is growing, you're essentially figuring yourself out while being forced to know what you're gonna do for the rest of your life and who you wanna be when you grow up. 

i didn't give a flying fuck about my textbooks in high school, i was an average student, and i probably failed more tests than i've farted but i can safely say that i've never felt happier now as an adult. yes, adulthood has many challenges (i might write a blog post about that) but i've experienced more acceptance and love from people ive met since i left high school than those 4 years combined. 

and on that note, i dedicate this paragraph to people who are still in high school or just finished - you can start again. no seriously, your life doesn't solely depend on how well you did in that one Afrikaans spot test, will it make things a little bit harder? yes, only because society and the work force place pressure on people to be #hustling 24/7. also, starting again/picking yourself up is not an easy road to walk, there will always be ups and downs. 

fuck school spirit. the only spirit that exists is the one in my cup <3

#high school #school spirit #student life #social hierarchy

[tanjirochan]

tanjiro and subaru are both bisexuals who cut their own hair

#that’s their very specific vibe #also being kind #anyway that’s it for today’s unrelatable post #kimetsu no yaiba #re zero #鬼滅の刃 #re: ゼロ #*

[goethitee]

you ever just think abt how some dogs have such nasty teeth but others dont

#unrelatable moment but i work with dogs what do u expect from me #but no seriously today at work i had my two regulars come in & i was trying to pay attention to if they smell at all &/or from where #cuz their owner said last how they start to smell so quickly blah bla blah etc u get it #anyways this all just to say their breath stinks & the top parts or their teeth toward the gums are brown #like the older one minnie is just a few years old & it is just dark & caked on there #the younger one rosie isnt even a year old. & i can see it start to form at the top of uer teeth #my dogs dont have that & i dont understand why #ik i could probably research it which i plan on doing at some point but i dont. want to right now #like beau & cletus just turned four & there is almost no brown at all #fred is almost a year & hers are pearly white #like compare that w rosie who is younger thatn winni but has a solid layer of brown forming #i thought abt this while i was taking care of the rabbits outside & was watching fred eat rabbit crap #so i think my dogs have clean teeth cuz they eat rabbit crap /hj #slash handjob. i will never forget abt that post. neways bye

[underqualifiedcritic]

This post is going to be completely unrelatable, long, historical, and oddly personal, but if tumblr's not the place for that, then what is? So, anyway.

Today is 58 years since the assassination of Jack Kennedy and I've been thinking about it a lot.

Specifically, I've been thinking about Bobby Kennedy. I've been thinking about his grief, the immensity of it.

I've been thinking about how, after the assassination, he wore his brother's suit jackets and smoked his brother's favorite cigars. I've been thinking about things other people wrote about him.

"The center of his life had been shot away," said Ed Guthman.

"It veered close to being a tragedy within a tragedy. Ethel and my mother feared for his own survival," wrote Ted Kennedy.

"He looked to me like a man who [was] just in intense pain," said John Seigenthaler.

I think, with all the conspiracies surrounding Jack's death, people sometimes forget all the grief. So, I'm thinking about Caroline and the rest of the family today. I'm thinking about Jackie. I'm thinking about Bobby.

note: I personally don't believe in the conspiracy theories, but this is NOT meant to be judgemental towards those who do.

#tw: grief #tw: death #rfk #jfk #jack kennedy #history #robert kennedy #jfk assassination #november 22

[galacticlamps]

that episode was such fun! the sontarans were great, I honestly don’t know if they’ve ever been so captivating to watch before. my other spoiler-free thought is Damn i can’t wait to see some crazy-skilled cosplayers recreate those villains’ costumes, i know we had pics of them before now but still, the whole time watching them i was just thinking about how fantastic they looked

yaz not freaking out too much and yet having to ask ‘promise?’ while she was disappearing broke my heart. which was good because the next bit of her literally having written wwtdd on her hand was well intentioned but pretty stupid. i get it had to be something specific and physical for the full creepiness of mr swarm knowing about it to hit home (versus it being some kind of inference anyone could’ve guessed about yaz trying to emulate her more generally) but still, it struck me as so dumb i’d actually like an explanation for it at some point - why’d she have that on her hand today? she can’t always walk around like that, can she? but other than that everything with yaz this ep was great so can’t complain.

dan is so dumb i love it. no i dont mean the tempura line either. i mean him telling his parents it’s okay he’ll go deal with the sontarans bc he has experience with aliens now. dude you might’ve known aliens existed a day ahead of everyone else but that’s because you got kidnapped and locked in a cage and keep getting teleported places. i don’t think you exactly had much in the way of useful experience by the time you made that claim, but you’ve got a bit more by the end of the episode, at least. and you seem to be becoming a proper companion now, you made the choice to go when you could’ve stayed home this time, anyway.

i also liked dan’s parents! i know a lot of their lines were kinda eyerollish parents-being-parents type things to say but i also believed his mother about the sontarans coming to liverpool first, and i like the idea of the place itself being important to this plotline for some reason, im interested to see where all that goes

god help the tardis tho my girl does not deserve this. im still not sure if dan’s slated to stick around post-flux but i wonder what it would do to a companion’s understanding of the whole doctor/tardis/time travel situation for their first impression to be the tardis being this uniquely fucked up.

i think the ep itself struck a good balance between stand alone and part of the arc, which i was happy about - i really enjoyed everything that happened in the historical storyline, so i wouldnt mind if any of it comes up again later but it’s also nice to feel like you’ve absorbed a full story start to finish by the end of an episode, and i do feel that way tonight so that’s good. the trailer for the next ep was super short, and without much identifiable except a menagerie of characters/villains it’s hard to say if it’ll be similar to this week’s in that regard or go back to focusing on developing flux-centric stuff - maybe there’s a pattern of alternating episodes spending more time on self contained plots vs the big picture? or maybe there is a way all those seemingly unrelated things could be sewn up in one smaller story, afterall we are on the planet Time, and presumably in a different universe/dimension/something at least equally weird. I guess there are some simpler contexts that could account for everything in the trailer though - like god complex or even the death zone - but then again, if we are in an altered reality, i suppose even something like the environments in celestial toymaker/mind robber/deadly assassin is also on the table. maybe that’s why thirteen’s coat’s reversed, maybe it’s to indicate the difference between the real dr and an avatar of her.

i think the thing that surprised me most in this one was the muttonchop man yaz first ran into at the temple. he also showed up early on in the first ep but that one was so busy it didn’t feel strange, whereas here he definitely feels like the most unrelated thing to show up in the episode. and being at the beginning of both without ever reappearing, i feel like he’s meant to be seeded in and forgotten about, so hopefully that goes somewhere interesting. obviously thirteen’s vision of that nightmare house at the start was very weird too, but in the context it seemed less strange - it was way too big to resemble wherever diane got sucked into right? idk i feel like it’s a future thing not a past thing but who knows. unless its being in black and white was supposed to have ruth/pre hartnell vibes but im probably over analyzing now

also honorable mention to the triangles at the temple, who were kind enough to call themselves triangles. i do love a service bot with a bit of personality

#thirteenth doctor #idk if im gonna keep making posts after each ep but for now it's fun so i am #again lmk if you need anything tagged #if i hadnt made a read more i would probably have made a joke about dan and his wok and moved on tho so maybe this is for the best

[marcelock]

...

#on todays episode of dumb anxieties: i get back up on it in the meta/show talk game and all my posts are dumb or unrelatable #my anxiety issues are so dumb....jfkshdkhxshsks #anyway no one worry im fine #i miss metaing though i miss the show i wanna participate more rn!!!!!!! i cant wait to!! fck

[taptrial2]

Hi! So, I saw your post about autistic characters and I have a question (I’m genuinely sorry if I sound dumb) anyway, I want to write a autistic character, and she will be born with the knowledge power, so she will be smart, but because of the godess powers she inherited. I’m also basing her on Entrapta from She-Ra because I adore her.

My question is, is it wrong? I mean, will I come off as stereotypical and things like that? Because thats the last thing I want.

P.S. I will do other research to make her more realistic, but I want to know if the power I gave her is not a good idea. Thanks for your help!!

hi!! i usually don't answer asks like this considering i made that post a couple years ago now, but i feel generous today

anyway, being "blessed with knowledge" from birth sounds very savant syndrome autistic stereotype. like, no matter how you frame it, her being magically born somehow smarter than other people AND her being autistic is a bad look.

before you go about giving her any other mystical powers from birth, i just think that's kind of a bad idea for most stories. it makes your character come across as unrelatable and it's thematically complicated and sensitive - the way an audience interacts with that kind of idea is rarely healthy.

i usually enjoy smarty pants characters, but this in particular sounds like a pretty bad idea dude, sorry. an easy fix would be having her thirst for knowledge and be enthusiastic about learning new things, and because she's focused on that, she ended up becoming what we would call very book smart. that's just off of the top of my head though!

feel free to not completely throw this concept away if you're too attached, but i'd strongly recommend rethinking it.

#exoticbutterstxt

[gracie-p8-officialblog]

Defending Cosette Fauchelevent

Introducing the Random Characters Series. It's about random fictional characters, by moi, posted whenever, and it has no rhyme and no reason except for the fact that I like writing about them. I've also discovered that I like defending characters that are sometimes misunderstood- so you may see a lot of that. Like today, when I tackle Cosette Fauchelevent, a sadly overlooked fictional character. The end.

Cosette has been harshly criticised by many people and that's a real shame. She's sweet and cheerful, and at first glance she doesn't appear to have much of a personality other than the Satellite Love Interest™. But here I am ready to defend Cosette!

If anyone in Les Mis is a "cinnamon roll", it will ALWAYS be Cosette! She's so sweet despite what happened to her. Let's talk about her backstory for a moment.

I think one important thing about Cosette is that she grew up for the first few years of her life HORRIBLY ABUSED AND MISTREATED by the slimy Thernardiers. But the real kicker? She grew up into the most loving character in the entire story and did not let the abuse affect her because unfortunately, most child abuse victims grow up to be angry, untrusting or even violent but Cosette had NONE of these traits! She grew up to be this happy, loving, charitable person.

Some think Cosette is unrelatable but if you think about it, she is kinda relatable to those who have overprotective parents and a rather sheltered life. I know I feel like I can relate to Cosette. Sure, those aren't things everyone can relate to, but then again, not everyone has suffered unrequited love, or a breakup. One of the reasons Les Miserables is cool is because there are dozens of characters, and there's always at least one that you feel you can relate to.

And the most common argument against her is that she ''''''''''''''''stole'''''''''''''''' Marius from Eponine! Here's the thing. Cosette didn't 'steal' Marius from Eponine because she didn't even know there was another girl in love with him! She had no idea about Eponine, and if she did, knowing Cosette, she probably would have felt very sorry about the whole thing. And I would like to add that Marius was also oblivious to her feelings and owed Eponine nothing but gratefulness and thanks. But not necessarily a romantic relationship! I bet thay if Marius knew of Eponine's feelings, he would have felt sorry about the whole love triangle and Cosette would have accepted it.

And keep in mind that Cosette was there to comfort Marius when he probably had PTSD from the revolution and seeing his friends die. THAT is a good girlfriend!

I often hear that Cosette was spoiled but when Marius first sees Cosette in the film, she's giving money to a poor person. When he sees her in the musical(depending on the production, I suppose), she and her father are going out of their way to help people. Even though she lives in a giant house and is considerably well-off, I have found absolutely no evidence of her being spoiled. Having a guardian, living in a giant house and having a considerable fortune does NOT always mean that someone is spoiled.

And keep in mind that she doesn't get a 'happily ever after' either because she still ends up heartbroken and lonely because, after Valjean dies, she has no one in the world besides Marius.

Ahem. If you made it through these huge chunks of paragraph, I congratulate you!

I have to say, Cosette is better portrayed in some adaptations than others. In the musical, depending on how the actress plays the part, she can come across as vapid and airhead-y. Or she can be on the other side of the spectrum, and seem whiny and ungrateful to Valjean. I thought that she was very well portrayed in the 2012 film, a good balance between inquisitive about her father's past and respecting him.

In conclusion, I love Cosette because despite what she's been through, she still grows up to show kindness to others :). She's not quite perfect, but, then again, if she were, I probably wouldn't like her anyway. Perfect people are... well, boring. (Apologies to any and all perfect people out there.)

#les mis cosette #cosette fauchelevent #cosette #Defending cosette #long post #Why does everyone hate cosette? #She's an angel

[amostexcellentblog]

Judy Garland: Reflections on an Icon, Gay or Otherwise

Today, June 22, 2019, marks the 50th anniversary of the day we lost one of the world’s greatest entertainers, Judy Garland. In just a few days time we will observe an even more momentous 50th anniversary, that of the Stonewall Uprising which birthed the modern LGBTQ equality movement. If you’re familiar with your queer folk history, you’ll know there are those who claim this close timing is not a coincidence. But we’ll get to that later.

I first encountered Garland the way most people do--my parents showed me The Wizard of Oz when I was little. I don’t remember much of the experience aside from wanting to be a flying monkey for Halloween, and that “Over the Rainbow” made me cry, which was the first time any piece of media had made such an impact on me. It never really occurred to me that the woman who sang that song could have had a career beyond Oz until 12 years ago when I was just finishing Middle School and becoming interested in the Old Hollywood era. She was the first star I formed an emotional connection to, and as I happily made my way through her filmography and read up on her life I first encountered the phrase “gay icon.”

I knew what gay meant, obviously. I was vaguely aware of the LGBTQ and marriage equality movements, but at the time I mostly knew “gay” as the insult hurled at me seemingly everyday of Middle School for a series of things I never gave a second thought to but were apparently tell-tale signs that I was that way, and thus a figure deserving of torment--how I carried my books, how I sat, how I looked. My basic opinion of being gay at that point was that it’s fine for other people, but dear god don’t let this be my future!

So, when I realized that the star I was idolizing was famous for being idolized by gay men, I did what I’d become very adept at doing, I ignored the implications. Denial allowed me to spend high school working my way through her films, youtube videos, documentaries, and a biography without really examining why this woman resonated so much with me. So now, as we approached these two anniversaries, it seemed like a good time to finally try to sort through what she meant to me. What I ended up with instead is an essay that’s part personal reflection and part mediation on the meaning of the term “Gay Icon” in the era of Marriage Equality and Corporate-Sponsored Pride.

The term “Gay Icon” has been used to mean several similar, but different types of people. To clarify, when I talk about Gay Icons in this post, I’m talking specifically about a subset of gay icons related to the so-called “Diva Worship” culture among gay men. Nobody really seems to know why exactly gay men are so drawn to larger-than-life women, I’ve heard too many reasons to go into them all now, but even if not all of us go for the cliches (Cher, Gaga, etc.) pretty much every gay man has a female figure--real or fictional--they connect with in a way their straight male peers don’t.

Looking back, it’s obvious why Garland resonated with me. She was chronically insecure, especially about her looks--as was I. She spent her life wanting desperately to for someone to love her unconditionally and to be able to love them back, only to be denied this simple happiness time after time--well, of course that would resonate with a gay audience, especially in her lifetime. And she was a survivor, repeatedly cast aside by the press and the industry as washed up, she continually had the last laugh. She had a strength to her that I wanted. It was a different kind of strength than the physical/masculine kind offered by the pro-athletes and superheroes my male peers emulated, but which I found unrelatable and unappealing. Hers was a strength that came dressed in sequins and high heels, and I just thought it was fabulous.

Garland though, is more than just a gay icon, in a lot of ways she seems to be the gay icon. The popular code phrase “friend of Dorothy” is generally assumed to be a reference to her character in Oz. She maintained close friendships with gay men throughout her life, with whom she would frequent illegal gay bars on both coasts. Her father was a closeted homosexual, and biographers have speculated this is why so many of the men she was attracted to, both as friends and romantically, turned out to be gay or bi. She was one of the first celebrities to have their gay following acknowledged in the mainstream press. There’s even footage on youtube of her being asked directly about why she attracts so many “homosexuals,” and she is visibly thrown by it.

To understand why Garland would be so flustered over that question, it’s important to understand how being popular with the gay community was perceived in her lifetime. William Goldman’s The Season, his influential book about the 1967–68 season on and off Broadway, includes an account from an unnamed screenwriter friend describing a mid-1960s cocktail party that offers a fascinating glimpse at just that:

I can’t explain her appeal, but I saw it work once in this crazy way. I was at a party in Malibu... There were a lot of actors there, the word on them was that they were queer, but this was a boy-girl party, everyone was paired off, and these beautiful men and gorgeous broads were talking together and drinking together. Anyway, everything’s going along and it’s sunny, I’m getting a little buzzed... when I realized, Garland was in the room.

The guy she’s with, her husband, supports her as she plops down in this chaise, and says what she wants to drink and he goes off to get it. And she’s sitting all alone and for a minute there was nothing, and then this crazy thing started to happen. Every homosexual in the place, every guy you’d heard whispered about, they left the girls they were with and started to mass move towards Garland. She didn’t ask for it, she was just sitting there, while all these beautiful men circled her. They crowded around her and pretty soon she’s disappeared behind this expansive male fence. It may not sound like all that much, but I’m telling you, she magnetized them. 

I’ll never forget all those famous secret guys moving across this gorgeous patio without a sound, and her just sitting there, blinking. And then they were on her, and she was gone. (x)

Another passage describing one of her concerts in 1967, from Goldman himself, is even more blunt:

Another flutter of fags, half a dozen this time, and watching it all from a corner--two heterosexual married couples. “These fags” the first man says, “it’s like Auschwitz, some of them died along the way but a lot of them got here anyhow!” He turns to the other husband and shrugs, “Tonight, no one goes to the bathroom.” (x)

Both passages, laced with condescension, homophobia, and misogyny, are nevertheless useful windows into a pre-Stonewall way of looking at how far gay culture has come. Today Lady Gaga can sing “Don’t be a drag just be a queen” on a lead single and still reign as a queen of pop music, back then any association with homosexuality was enough to taint you. Garland’s popularity with gay men opens her up to condescending mockery, while gay men’s mere existence at a public event is enough to terrify the heterosexual attendees.

Still, the most revealing part of that last passage might not be the homophobia, but the opening reference to “another flutter of fags, half a dozen.” The fact that a decent amount of gay men evidently felt comfortable enough to express themselves at least somewhat openly at a mainstream public event is notable. In this pre-Stonewall era such openness was generally reserved for bars and other covert safe spaces.

Which brings us back to the first paragraph. If you know any queer folk history, then you’ve probably heard this one--Judy Garland’s funeral sparked the Stonewall Uprising. That fateful night in June the Stonewall Inn was packed with gay men still emotionally raw from losing their idol, so much so that when the police raided the joint they channeled that anger and loss, and fought back, and the modern LGBTQ movement was born! It’s a story that would solidify Garland’s status as the definitive gay icon, a martyr for the cause, (move over Harvey Milk!) Except, it’s not true. It’s been debunked multiple times. Most recently in this video from the NY Times.

I bring it up though, because even if she wasn’t the cause, she was still connected to that historic night, if only indirectly. Even as the NY Times video debunks the myth of her funeral causing it, two of the uprising’s participants interviewed do admit to being at Garland’s funeral, which really was held just hours before the violence started. Other accounts from people who patronized Stonewall have said that “Judy Garland” was a popular fake name to use on a sign-in book at the entrance. In other words, even if she didn’t cause them, she was still an important figure for some of the people who went on to build the modern equality movement.

As a final thought to wrap this all up, I’ve been thinking about Garland and her status as a gay icon. It’s no secret that as the years have passed by she’s been somewhat supplemented by younger icons for younger generations. There’s been some question over whether Garland even has a place in a gay culture that now has people like Lady Gaga and “Born This Way,” openly acknowledging their gay fans in ways Garland never could. 

At the same time, I can’t help but feel the recent debate over Taylor Swift’s gay-themed music video demonstrates why Garland still deserves her Gay Icon status, even if most younger queer people today don’t have the same connection to her that older generations did. Swift’s video, chocked full of every out celebrity who would return her calls and saturated in a rainbow-hue, has faced criticism for being “performative activism.” That after being fairly silent on the issue for so long she’s now trying to cash-in on the movement by branding her single a new gay anthem for Pride Month. The fact that with one exception, which misuses the word “shade,” the lyrics to the song sound more like they’re referring to Swift’s online haters rather than anti-LGBTQ bigots, certainly helps the critics’ case. As does the fact that Swift never seemed to have much interest in building a large gay following before this.

Yet there’s also a sense that this was inevitable. Corporations already roll out rainbow colored logos for Pride, in retrospect it seems obvious that celebrities, and their PR firms, would start deliberately trying to market themselves as a gay icon without first taking the time to build a large following in the LGBTQ community. (Gaga’s established gay fanbase undoubtedly blunted similar criticisms of “Born This Way,” for example.) Garland in this case then serves as a symbol of a time when the Gay Icon title wasn’t anointed by marketing campaigns, but emerged organically from a genuine affection for an individual held by a large number of queer people. A reminder of how important that affection was to members of our community, (and still is to many of us) even if it could only go one-way. And perhaps even a warning, of what we might lose if we let this important part of gay subculture be transformed into just another marketing gimmick.

But I’ll leave all that for another time. For now, I’ll just say, thank you Judy Garland. Thank you for all the joy and comfort you’ve given to generations of gay men. And thank you especially for the companionship you gave me while I was still figuring some things out.

#judy garland

[tyranttortoise]

*Really long combo ask about SSLL, positivity, and date suggestions under the cut.  I finally caught up on a bit of my askbox.  <3

@happylittleorc

I’m so glad you liked it!  Axe’s jacket was 100% just because I thought, “damn, he’d look cool in one of those galaxy jackets, and his is dirty anyway.” xD   Thank you, hun.  This makes me so happy to hear.  <3  Things aren’t quite better, but they’ve reached the point where I can get back into the groove of writing again, I think.  Putting that chapter together really helped me.  I really appreciate you coming by to wish me well!

In love with all of them, you say?  Heh, I’m doing my job and dragging you into my hell where I can’t pick just one.  xD  Same tho; I never thought I’d be into either of them romantically, either.  I never really liked Black, but now, I really like him.  The more I write them, the more I like them, it seems.  And Blue on a motorcycle sealed the deal for me.  Thank you for reading, and for taking the time to type up something so sweet for me.  <3  

@ruby-the-wolf

AHHH I’VE MISSED YOU, TOO!!  -catches and hugs, twirling her around- <3

Thank you so much, sweetheart.  I’m so happy that any of my writing could help make your rough days a little better.  <3  Today was a good reprieve, so I’m hoping things become less chaotic on my side soon, but I really appreciate you coming by to leave such kindness in my askbox.  It really does help so much.  ^^

I’m so glad it could help, sweet anon!  <3  Thank you for leaving me some love in my askbox.  I’m happy you enjoy my imagines!  =D

@ anon 1:  I had to google Sherbrooke because I assumed it’d be somewhere in England.  xD  Wasn’t expecting Canada!  I’m sorry this is such a belated response; I had a lot going on.  But I really do appreciate this, and I’m glad you’ve come around to talk to me!  <3  Thank you so much for reading, hun!!

@anon 2 : Thanks so much!!  I’m happy you’re enjoying it! =D

@badchubbybunny

(The boi in question is Haida from Aggretsuko  for those curious) HELL YEAH, I LOVE HIM!  AND PFFFFT, I’m a mega fan of your entire blog because you always find the best content.  Seriously, you make my dash a fantastic place; I love scrolling and seeing your posts.  <3  We have a ton of the same interests!  

Also, I always meant to tell you that I was scrolling like... what?  Two months ago?  And I saw a Papyrus askblog talk about having a bunny crush or something??  And then they tagged you??  And I just bounced in my seat, fangirling over the ship sailing.  xP

Ahhh, my heart goes out to you; being a caregiver in that kind of situation is a seriously thankless job where you often get taken for granted.  Take care of yourself, too, and try not to let them burn you out too badly!  As difficult as that is.

My family deal is, well, a lot like Lady’s--only it all revolves around my sister.  The part I took out in SSLL was that she had a sibling that was the cause of a lot of her strife (well, that her parents were always calling and giving her hell for whatever was going on in her sibling’s life), but I had a couple of people tell me it was too unrealistic/unrelateable for everyone in her life to be somewhat toxic toward her.  So rather than write a sibling that ends up helping her, I wrote the sibling out entirely.  Call me bitter lol.  I just get tired.  I went to bed to try to sleep late for a nightshift, got woken up at 9am, then again at 10, then more calls at 11 while I was trying to sleep.  (Turning off my phone isn’t an option; I tried that, and they just come over and rage in-person)  Stayed up, went to work, got cussed out by my dad the entire way there without even getting a word in, worked til 8am, drove an hour home to find my dad at my house (he’s helping repair the hail damage), got cussed some more, took three sleeping pills so I could sleep through my dad and hubby working and talking, got woken up three hours later by my sister wanting to talk to me privately, so I went and ate lunch with her, and we talked for the first time in 5 or 6 years.  Then I bought her clothes and shoes, and later, groceries. 

Sorry, I went on a rant there.  But damn it felt good to tell someone, even if it’s just in a combo post where it’ll hopefully get scrolled past.  And as for the date suggestion -- hell yeah, I’m so down for the skeles and Readz in a cat cafe!  I’ve always wanted to go to one, even if I’m super allergic.  

Edge would be perfect for one, just saying.  That could be where he gets Doomfanger.  

Except for the fact that Doomfanger is UF!Burgerpants 100% as far as I’m concerned.

 --   Date Suggestions

I’m always down for star-gazing dates with the skeles.  <3  In fact, I’ve got something planned like that for the next date.  Which I will say won’t be with Crooks.  ;D  Gotta fit another date in before his.

@thefloatingstone

Man, C-Puff, everything about this date sounds absolutely divine to me.  Hammocks?!?!  You’re speaking my language!!  All of this sounds wonderful, as well as the cuddling under a huge blanket and just talking through the night with a warm drink.  I feel relaxed just thinking about it.  <3

@kamari3

I’m all for some shameless cuddle sessions and those half-asleep truths that just slip out, hell yes <3

@bulle-black-hole

Thank you so much, hun!  <3  And as for the date... oh yes, we definitely need some more time with Mutt.  He’s lagging behind the others.  An aquarium trip would be cool, too!  I’m always down for the aquarium when there’s turtles involved, and I can pet something lol.  

#ssll asks #positivity #for a rainy day #date suggestion #ssll tropes

[anecdotal-b]

Who I really am

I was watching a stream with a small streamer, and I know nobody reads these rants, but you should follow him if you are reading ( twitch.tv/dotader_ ). Anyways, he brought up something very interesting when it comes to characters like he and I. There are the trolls, and there are the genuine people. The trolls are trying to piss you off, whilst the genuine people are trying to make you laugh. He compared himself to another small streamer, but is in the same community, and I felt it as interesting. Saying, this person is a troll, and doesn’t show what they really feel by covering themselves in layers of irony, and this other person doesn’t need the satire and lose who they are as a person to be funny. I started thinking to myself, “I am 100% the troll type”, but then it brought me back to the way of my upbringing. My father in some type of way told me that I shouldn’t cry over little things (which I don’t anymore), but then it evolved into me not showing any emotions. In person, I am the most awkward, silent, and obedient dude. I was really disciplined as a kid, and why I don’t cry over little shit unless it is horrendous because I was under my fathers teaching. I sometimes wonder, “if I was not under my father’s influence, would I be as half as emotionless as I am today?” Because as weird as it may sound, I was kind of taught weather I should give a shit about this or that. Majority of the time, I don’t give one. I wondered if I would be a more genuine person and less of a troll if I was not shaped as a soicopath. I remember making some type of poem for myself, and it sounded like the most sociopathic shit ever. 

Just last week I cried myself to sleep, and so desperately I just wanted to hear myself weep Not a single noise

Now, I know it is so fucking cringe, but I didn’t let myself make a single noise even while crying. I applaud those who’re able to weep, because I was shaped in a way where I just don’t allow myself to. But another reason was because as a kid I had become very self aware of myself. All of my problems were because I talked too much. If you were to remove my impulse and excitement, I’d be known as the kid who is smart and was taught how to box by his dad and cool person to hangout with because they never fucking had the urge to talk. AKA, the person I forced myself to be now. To most people I would seem like the most unrelatable human being online. Just saying the most snark remarks ever, or IRL me who never feels the need to talk, talk to anybody, etc, but then we have my safe space, here. Where nobody is ever going to read this. Unfortunately, some people don’t want to interact with my type of character, and some people want someone who allows themselves to be vulnerable, which I am just unable to do for some reason. Dotader said that it is justified if you have a story behind it, and I think “I have a story, but I put it here in tumblr, where nobody will ever see it” Because I don’t think anybody even cares enough about something from Some Redditor who is likely not going to be anything in life. Sometimes I want to open up and tell people how easy they have it and just let loose by showing them this page, but then I realise that I am not brave enough to do that. I am pretty sure my father knows that which is why he has recently started to let loose on me, and has been attempting to open me, but I don’t do those things. Reason is because the last thing I want to look like is an attention seeker. I see this page as one of the most emberassing things inside of my life at the moment, because it has everything that I have hidden so well, and then if this were to ever come out to any of my friends, affiliates, etc. I’d be looked down upon. There is apart of me that wants to continue being that troll, but then again, I want to be that genuine person he was talking about, and if he knows that the other dude he called a troll has a story, then obviously he manned up enough to tell people, and I want to do that, but the way that I was taught by both myself and my dad, it just doesn’t allow me to. I believe that my story justifies my behaviour, but nobody will ever know that story because I am just an absolute pussy. I want to be man enough to post this on some type of social media, but I am scared of people thinking, “this nigga-chink really desperate for attention” or, “this dude is such a fucking softie”, and I am scared. I don’t want to be the one looked down upon because if I were to ever post something on the internet along the lines of “Hey, I just let out my emotions on my well being, go check out my tumblr to see it” it would look like the most sketch thing in the world. I am not that person who puts on makeup, dyes their hair, only drinks monster, and wears black because I want people to feel bad for me. I want people to know who I really am. I want to be that better person with nothing to hide. I want to be genuine, but I haven’t got the balls to do it because I look into this bullshit too much, man.

Thank you to nobody, for reading this rant

#life #rant