#have a little doodle of how i perceive myself

[stuffeddeer]

DEEEER happy (late) new year 🎊

i been so busy with work 😭 hope you're resting well!

been thinking about dazai lately as i usually do, he would be such a fucking pain in the ass if you gave him a drawing (if you gave a mouse a cookie style LMFAO)

it doesn't even have to be anything good, just some stupid doodle of a cat, and then he pesters you every day for a new drawing just for him

oh GOD and if you actually draw as a hobby? INSUFFERABLE, he'd probably dig through the trash for your discarded drawings or smth (smfh this man) and then complain cause why didnt you show HIM first instead of wasting perfectly good paper!

lol this is so stupid 💀

anyway byee -🩵

I’M SO GLAD YOU MENTIONED IF YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE BC THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT.

Your face scrunches up as you stare down at the corner of your paper. Would it be weird to give this to him? The last thing you want is to be perceived as some weird stalker, and you know he'd find a way to tease you for this. But... is throwing it out worse?

"Hey, Yosano," you tapped her on the shoulder before taking a seat on one of the medical cots she was working near. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot," she speaks listlessly, continuing to clean up the many medical papers littering her desk. It's not that she's uninterested, just a little out of focus.

There's a clear hesitation, causing the doctor to spin and look at you. Fiddling with the torn paper in your hand, you sigh. "This is probably weird, but, I drew Dazai."

"Don't see how that's weird," she replies, an amused smile on her face at your awkwardness.

"Well, I doodled him, I should say. Just in the margins of my r-report— " that you tore up. Oops. " —because he was across from me. And I could just throw it away, but I could give it to him. Would he think I'm a total creep if I offered it up..?"

And after a pep talk from Yosano, you found yourself standing beside Dazai's desk. His eyes lit up, having already noticed long before you had even registered it that you were drawing him. Everyone at the Agency was aware of your hobby, a few members having taken small doodles in the past, and Dazai was excited it was finally his time.

— that, along with your continued glances between him and your page earlier made it obvious it was him.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asks slyly, his tone higher pitched than normal and mischievous. "Are you visiting little ol' me just to say hi?"

"Not quite. I drew this, if you want it." Trying to swallow your awkwardness, you hold out the paper scrap to Dazai. For a small sketch, it was surprisingly detailed. So this is how you viewed him, hm? He'd always known he was pretty, but...

"Is it possible to fall in love with myself?"

You choke back a laugh. "Alright, Narcissus. I'll take that to mean you like it?"

Dazai nods happily, jumping from his chair to rest his body weight onto you. "More more more! Please? Next do us together! Or even us kissing," he wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

The laugh finally bubbles over as your hands rest on Dazai's sides. "Get back to work! Or Kunikida will stop letting me draw at work, and then you'll have nothing."

"So that means if I stop, I'll have more?" He grins, his face close enough to yours to make you stumble back.

"Do you have to be so close? You're so clingy," you mutter, still holding his sides to keep him from coming closer. "If you get off, I'll consider supplying you with more doodles. Maybe."

And Dazai immediately jumps off of you and back to work.

#HAPPY NEW YEAR????? #this rq has been a long time coming IM SO SORRY 😭😭😭 #im still sick and haven't written in a while Sorry If This Is Bad! #🦌anon #🦌anon🩵 #🦌request #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungo stray dogs fanfic #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai bsd #dazai imagines #dazai fluff #bsd fluff #my real return was gonna be this nikolai fic about biting but i just heard all the wilbur mcyt stuff so mayb we postpone that one !

[halfmoth-halfman]

i got an ask about advice for writing when you're discouraged, so i thought i'd make a post addressing some of the points because i think this is something that everyone has gone through and can relate to. most of this is just what's helped me/what i'd tell myself in the past, but if anyone has advice to add on please feel free! i hope this helps at least a little bit, anon!

"I’m not good at (dialogue/atmosphere/prose/etc)."

write it anyways! one of the best ways to build a skill is to keep doing it. even if you don't ever post it, or only share it with a few friends, or just read it to your pets, or whatever you choose to do, it's better to write something "badly" than to not write at all. or even asking for help on how to improve from other writers. i struggle a lot with atmosphere and scenery, and something that helped me a lot was talking to other writers whose fics i really enjoy and inspire me. i know it may seem intimidating, but there are plenty of writers on tumblr that would love to talk about how they compose their scenes, their dialogue, anything and everything if someone asks.

"I can’t make moodboards/headers/aesthetic posts."

the good news is, you don't have to! fics don't have to have anything other than the fic itself. i can't speak for everyone, but while aesthetics may get my attention, it's the person behind the blog that i stay for. if you want your blog or your fics to have a pretty aesthetic, it shouldn't be because you feel forced to but because you want to do it. if you don't find making moodboards or headers or aesthetic posts fun, then you don't have to do them. and if you want to, but don't know how, there are a ton of resources, links, and blogs dedicated to helping on tumblr.

"I’m not at (insert someone else)’s writing level."

and you might never be, and that's okay! every writer is different - they have different styles, write at different paces, perceive their skill differently. basing your progress on someone else's isn't going to help because you're not them. you have your own time, energy, ability, and ideas, you'll grow and improve at your own pace, just like they did. don't force yourself to try and follow the same timeline of someone else, and don't put yourself down because you're getting better - and you are getting better - at your own pace.

"I can’t find the motivation to write."

honestly same. i think it's a pretty universal experience to lose motivation for something you were excited about at one point. sometimes the vibes aren't it and the story doesn't want to story, but that's alright. it can be hard to stay motivated, and what gets someone inspired again is different everyone. i can't give advice for anything outside of what's helped me, but a few ways i've re-motivated myself to write something are: making a fic playlist, stepping away from the fic for a day or two, giving it to a friend to read, re-watching/reading the source material, doodling fic ideas, and skipping to a different part of the story.

"I can’t write fast enough."

unless it's for something like work where you have a fixed deadline, there is no "fast enough" in writing. don't let anyone tell you otherwise. when i first started writing, in the very early days of ao3 and tumblr, fic updates could takes months or even more than a year and that was fine! one of my favorite fics took a six year hiatus, and that didn't diminish any of the enjoyment i had when it came back. you are not a machine, you're a human being with needs outside of writing. it's always okay if you need to take a break, if there's a long wait between chapters, or if you want to stop a project altogether and come back to it six years later. if someone gives you grief because you can't write within their time-frame then they're not worth having as a reader - do not overwork yourself for the sake of finishing a fic.

"It’s hard to stick to one idea at a time."

then don't! write all the ideas. write every single one. working on a project and you have a drabble that you just keep thinking about? write it. you get a sudden idea for a one-shot in a different fandom? write it. woke up in the mood to start a new five-chapter fic? write it. you can start or stop writing about anything at any time. there is no rule that you have to stick to one idea and finish it before you can write anything else, don't make yourself stick to something if it's not what you want to write, and don't punish yourself if you need to take a break from your current project.

"Maybe I’m not made for writing on tumblr."

tumblr is a shitposting website that barely works at the best of times. half of my drafts get deleted every other week for no reason - there is no way to be "made for writing on tumblr"! but tumblr is huge, there's a bajillion communities on here that would be so excited to have another writer, and a ton that are solely dedicated to helping writers and providing different resources. i guarantee there is someone on this website that will love and adore your writing.

"The things I read are better than anything I can write/comparing myself to other writers."

i don't have the cake picture saved, but we all know the gist of it: the audience (generally) isn't going to care about how decorated your cake is compared to another, they're just happy to get two cakes. and that's really all it is. your fic might not be the same preferred flavor as the audience of other writers, but there is someone out there who's going to enjoy it. i won't tell you to just not compare yourself to others, i know that's not how it works, but what has helped me is changing the way i view other fics. instead of thinking "i wish i could write like this person", i look at like "this inspires me to improve my writing". and don't get me wrong, i still have moments of doubt about my writing compared to some of the people i read, i don't think that will ever really stop, but the best thing you can do is not let yourself give in to that feeling. try and stop that train of thought before it leaves the station. no one else can write the way you can. no one else can tell your stories the way you can. no one else has the same voice as you do. if everyone wrote the same way, everything would be boring. the heart of a fic is seeing the author's personality shine through it. if you see someone write a good fic, that doesn't mean yours won't be. you have to give yourself a chance even when you feel like your writing won't be as good as someone else's. you have to bake your cake anyway.

"How do I find joy in something I know I’ll never be good at?"

you won't. full stop. if you keep telling yourself you'll never be good at something, you'll never improve, there's no point in trying, then you'll never enjoy it. i know it's easier said than done, but you have to have some level of confidence in yourself and in your writing. not only will you not enjoy it, other people will see the lack of enjoyment, the "i wrote this and it sucks" comments, the self-degradation, and they won't enjoy it either - no one feels good about a fic the author clearly didn't want to write. and, if you try everything you possibly can and still can't find any joy in writing, then maybe writing isn't the hobby for you. and that's perfectly okay! i tried quilting and glassblowing several times before i realized i just didn't like it the same way i liked writing. you owe it to yourself to find something that's fun, that makes you smile, that you're excited to do. there's a million hobbies out there, i promise you'll find something that brings you joy.

#moth talks #writing advice #long post

[lulu-balu]

Booooy howdy here's a bit of a doozy. Where do I begin!

Well I chose my old username back in mid 2017 when I was a wee lass writing silly fics on fanfiction.net. I chose it because it was Italian for "You are beautiful", because 1) I'm half Italian and 2) I thought it was sweet and wholesome.

To start: as I said above, I'm half Italian. That's because I'm Italian-American, that side of the family *has* been for quite a few generations now and they absolutely fit ALL the stereotypes you could think of when you hear "Italian-American". Stupidly proud of their heritage, and usage of silly botched up slang all while knowing little to no actual Italian. I know some stuff mainly through osmosis but yea. I definitely can't speak the language and I'll admit I simply do not have the brain power to memorize another language. I tried it with Spanish in high school already and it didn't go very well LOL

So yeah. I was one of "those" people as a teen. Idk why, it's stupid and I'm simply not like that anymore! So that's the biggest reason, but it's also not the only reason.

Number two is simplicity. Seeing that it's a common Italian phrase it's no surprise that "Sei Bellissima" straight up is taken across different sites, leading me to have to make some funky additions so that I can make accounts on there. This can lead to some confusion. Not to mention those additions can make the username long as hell in general and a pain to type out. So I went for a shorter name that will still be easier to remember, even in the cases where additions are necessary.

And uhh regarding the "Sweet and wholesome" thing- I still try to be positive where I can, but I've been through the wringer a *lot* since then and I simply do not have as much happy energy as I did back then. Believe me, it's sad and I really had no idea what was coming for me at the time but- being that overtly positive all the time definitely drained me a lot more than necessary. I guess that's another reason for a change; it all just didn't fit who I am anymore.

So yeah, to put it all simply: it doesn't represent the kind of person I perceive myself to be today, so I decided it was time for a change. As for my decision-making process behind that change?

Lulubalu is pronounced "loo-loo-buh-loo" and is derived from the word "hullabaloo", which is a word used to refer to a commotion or fuss over something. I kinda think it fits how I react to things I really enjoy and hyperfixate on; I just go absolutely nuts. Mostly not publicly but uh. Yeah I'm very enthusiastic sdfjkhsk

The "Lulu" part is just because I like that name and the way it sounds when spoken. It isn't even my real name I just like it a lot lol. Speaking of. When you wanna speak to me now, you can use "Lulu" to address me

ANYWAY. I'm still me; I've certainly changed a lot over the years and the username change is a nice way to reflect that, I think. All of the stuff I've posted over the years is still here so if you've got anything bookmarked you'll want to update that (I will be changing my art tag to [#lulu's doodles] and will be taking the free time I have to update all the posts skdjfhskj). Buuuut otherwise I think that's it. If you've made it this far, thanks for reading and enjoying the stuff I've put out over the years <3

#lulu rambles #longpost

[mossimoon]

hello, I would like to show you what I did yesterday

for those who don’t know, I was a brony once upon a time. I do not consider myself a brony anymore. however, I still enjoy watching the occasional episode, and doodling the occasional rainbow horse

so yesterday on a whim I decided to redesign my ponysona and now you all get to perceive it :)

as for what fae actually is, I have very little idea myself tbh. part cow, part pegasus, all faerie being? regardless, I really really like how faer design came out :)

#river’s scribbles #i like them :) #my little pony #mlp art #ponysona art

[holofoiltowercard]

The Journey of The Tarot Haiku

V: The Hierophant - Doing it my way

That title speaks more to the reversed Hierophant, who was actually the star of the show at one time during the process of preparing my manuscript for publication, so I decided to dedicate this post to that funny anecdote, but I also wanted to talk about how it fits into my life in general.

Ever since I was little, I have been doing things differently. My mom once told me, "After two kids, I thought I knew what to expect. You blew that out of the water." After two fairly normal siblings, my family found me somewhat incomprehensible, but because I was really good at drawing, soaked up any English I heard like a sponge and did well in school, it was put down as a case of having a quirky genius on their hands. Looking back, I would not call myself that, and I don't really wish the curse of being considered gifted on any child: it really messes with everyone's expectations, including your own. Whenever I fell short, I was devastated. But I never did stop, because as it turned out, my way of perceiving the world and interacting with it was simply different from other people's, and I followed what my inner compass told me was the right direction. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn't, but live and learn.

I always loved creative projects, and spent over twenty years doodling compulsively, and writing the odd poem here and there. I wanted to write books, and even now when I ask myself, what do you wish you could do with your life, my answer is that I would love to write stories and share them - despite that, for the longest time, writing simply didn't happen, and I actually started earnestly, and in English, in my late twenties. I had my confidence in my storytelling shattered a few times in the course of my life, and because I could draw, everyone was encouraging that, but to me drawing was partly a way to keep my hands busy; the only way I could pay attention at school was drawing in textbooks and notebooks (needless to say my teachers kind of hated that). As I got more comfortable with writing, I stopped drawing as much, and now I rarely do unless I'm asked or I'm engaging with a project where I need to draw - such as this book.

Once I started writing the poems in earnest, I could tell that they had the potential of becoming a book, and I got very excited. It could have been a more standard poetry book that features only text, but I was more ambitious than that. I love a good illustration, so I made illustrations after my own vision, but above all, as soon as I thought of the layout you have to physically turn about to reverse the card in the middle and reveal the poem attached to it, I knew I had to go with that. I only learned in the last stages of preparing my manuscript that what I devised was called "ergodic literature", and felt really glad that I had a proper expression to describe what I had done.

In the layout I was confident; in the process of self-publishing, not so much. I actually consulted the Tarot a lot once I made up my mind to publish. I asked what dates I ought to aim for as the publication date; I asked what I could expect if I published here or there; and as I was preparing the document with Kindle Create, I kept asking the cards if it was going to go well in its current state. I was starting to get reversed cards, and got so frantic I actually went to consult guide books to suss out the meaning better. It was in this state that, for the paperback, I drew a new card, and got The Hierophant reversed. Again, I was already kind of jittery and unfocused, and went to the guidebook... which basically said, "Stop asking others for approval and just trust yourself."

It was hilarious. I laughed heartily, and I submitted.

A day later the paperback version was rejected... because of the upside down text. Turns out Kindle Direct Publishing does not allow that in print, even if it is ergodic literature. The support person I emailed was very kind and apologetic, but there it was: having upside down text in print was unconventional and here it was not allowed. I thought back to The Hierophant reversed, and laughed again at how perfectly it captured the whole situation.

I ended up reformatting the book for paperback, so the ergodic layout disappeared, and each card was featured twice in order to show off the reversed cards under their respective poems. I am a visual thinker, and I also think it's just neater to see the cards actually in reverse position, and being able to ponder the poem and the imagery at the same time. Again, I've never come across a guide book in my studies that showed off the reversed card when discussing its reversed meaning, so I wanted to have it for my book. I guess here is where the upright Hierophant comes in: in the process of capturing the meanings in succinct little poems and attaching illustrations to them, I realized that the book could be used as a practical guide for beginners, and from there on I made a commitment to that. I'm glad that the ebook was allowed to retain its layout, because I really loved it, and this way it does feel more like a volume of poetry and the homage I had meant it to be, and at the same time I'm happy with the paperback and hardcover versions being more accessible, even if the reformatting sort of bloated the page count (bringing it from 113 pages to 190). I sincerely hope that anyone new to Tarot will find it insightful and fun.

Buy the ebook

Buy the paperback

Buy the hardcover

#tarot #tarot cards #the hierophant #poetry #haiku #the tarot haiku journey

[icybreaths]

Rules, tag 10 followers  you want to get to know better!

Tagged by: @burdenedreverance (thank you~)

Tagging: @sunniestshark , @nildov , @characternerdocs , @ichigokurosaki , @sylvctica , @territorialii, @fallesto , @desuetmort , @midnightactual , @galeforged (no pressure tags, feel free to ignore!)

Name: Just call me Chicky

Star Sign: Taurus sun (Virgo moon / Scorpio rising winkwonk)

Height: 5'8

Middle name: Nicole

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

Crazy in Love – The Eden Project Feat. Leah Kelly

Death and Humanity – Sewerslvt

Psychonaut – Mr. Gnome

The Key – Black Stone Cherry

Dark Clubbing / Dark Electro / Industrial Bass Mix 'TECH NOIR' – Aim to Head Mix

Krwlng – Linkin Park (Reanimation)

Ever had a poem or song written about you: No, I don’t think so.

When was the last time you played air guitar: I don’t remember :’D

Who is your celebrity crush?: Hmmmm James Marsters, esp circa BTVS era. Hamsome

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: I cannot stand the sound of gritty textures, especially on metal. I always feel like I can taste it as I hear it and it makes me want to 4th dimensionally reel into myself I fucking Hate It lmao. I looooove the sound of rain. I feel an instant sense of calm and peace when it’s raining.

Do you believe in ghosts?: 100% I have stories!

How about aliens: Bro. We’re aliens bro.

Do you drive?: Noooo. It’s not out of a lack of trying either! I’ve failed the driving test twice and just barely failed last time. I think I was two points from passing it? My anxious ass was like, right maybe this isn’t for me I never wanted to do this anyway bye forever, and cried a little. But I’m over it now. Almost 30 btw, love that for me.

If so have you ever crashed: There were a couple of instances when I was younger but they were minor incidents luckily (also no I was not driving lmfao side-eyes previous question.)

What was the last book you read?: Couldn’t tell ya.

Do you like the smell of gasoline: No.

What was the last movie you saw?: Pretty sure it was Men in Black 2.

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?:  Several years ago I got really drunk and accidentally stepped on this creepy dude’s teapot with my bare foot, shattered it, and wounded my ankle. I Could Not walk on it omfg it hurt so bad. I was so drunk though that I was laughing about it, and then crying because I ‘couldn’t get the wound or shards out of my foot’ no matter how much I dug at it. There were no shards it was just a bloody pit and I was dumb drunk, don't perceive me.

Anyway skipping ahead a little bit because that was an awful night-- couldn’t walk on it properly for about two weeks, had to use crutches and people's shoulders as leverage so I could hobble around, and now I have a little crescent scar on my ankle to this day.

Lied to my family about it and told them it was from stepping on glass at a spring (because I was on vacation in another part of the country at the time. Didn’t wanna worry them. What a way to start off my 20s LOL)  I don't drink anymore btw. I don't enjoy the feeling of being drunk.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Getting My Shit Together while also roleplaying on tumblarg, and doodling.

#[ ooc. ] #[ dash games ] #//tldr i'm embarrassing and kinda lame but my taste in music is alright

[hillbillyoracle]

Eclipse Self Reflection

I spent a lot of time thinking about how I've never had close relationships period. Not with family, not with friends, not with romantic partners. I have spent years and years of my life trying painstakingly to change that - to learn better social skills, to get out there, to join things, to initiate and create - and none of it has worked.

And I feel like there's this question that's been hanging over me for a long time - when am I just going to accept what I cannot change?

Whatever allows other people to have close relationships must not be something I can directly impact or I would have figured it out by now. My natal chart is majorly detrimented and this must just be an aspect of it; south node solar eclipse in my 7th house (relationships), Mars detrimented in my 5th (sex), ruling my 4th (family) and my 11th (friends and community), Jupiter detrimented in my 9th (spirituality), ruling my 12th (unknown) and my 3rd (travel and correspondence).

I learned in middle school that my only way into a social life was to have skills people wanted. Despite going to a church for over a year I didn't really get invited to anything until people spotted the designs I doodled my arms to help with social anxiety. I started getting invited to hang out with people to doodle the designs on them. I did this through high school.

In college, it was tarot and that's continued into my adult life. People forget I fucking exist until they want a free tarot reading. I'm just burnt out. Because being useful is not a deep connection for me. It's nice but it's not socially reciprocal. It's really just having me pay for socialization with my skill. And it makes it feel like there's no point in be beyond that skill.

I took a break from social media last year and I had one person even attempt to keep in touch with me off of it. It stung. I appreciate my online only relationships but they're not terribly close either. I orbit their lives, I'm not really a part of them.

I don't know. I just feel something fundamentally shifting.

I regularly find myself wishing I could just erase myself from people's memories. I thought I would regret not trying more but I deeply wish I'd tried less in most relationships and friendships. Thinking of my current friends doesn't make me happy; thinking of them feels like when you loose a tooth and your tongue won't pressing on the spot to see if it's still sore. I think I'm approaching something like painful resignation to my lot, a visceral understanding that closeness with other people just isn't in the cards.

But there's also a resentment boiling. Not that I'm like entitled to friends or anything but rather that I feel like I'm being forced to become what other people often seemed like they wanted me to be, something I never saw anyone else be - emotionally self-sufficient, physically self-reliant, and generally distant. When people have perceived me this way, they seemed to like me more. I guess because it's easy to like someone who needs nothing from you and prefers your absence.

And it's the last thing I want to be, but it feels like there's really no choice - it's the only way to cope with the consistent and overwhelming degree to which I'm socially isolated.

It is a little funny though - if I'm able to find any humor in the situation at all - that I often felt like people preferred this version of me because they didn't feel comfortable with how high my expectations were for people, which weren't in the grand scheme of things that high - how dare I want to be understood and occasionally thought of? I guess they thought I wouldn't expect as much from them if I didn't like them.

But as I move toward this version of myself I never truly wanted, my bar for acceptable company only gets higher and higher. I don't like them because I expect better of people I spend regular time with. So jokes on them I guess.

I think part of why I feel such deep pain about this is at least in part because I do not have a model for a meaningful life without those fruitful connections with others I can't seem to make happen. The closest I can come to that are probably monastic communities but even they, crucially, live in a community.

So it doesn't feel like just giving up on a dream. It feels like giving up on a core part of a good life. And I'm really at a loss with what to do about any of it.

Who knows. Maybe I'll reread this later and like damn, Marz, you're mopey. But maybe later I'll look back and go yeah you were onto something. Time to change.

#personal

[milkissblog]

hey everybody!!

thats a weird ass way to start a diary entry. i can't have a diary because my mom is a little invasive and will for sure read it. theres also this weird little clown pop up on my screen? anyway.

id love love loveee love lvoe more than anything to have a diary. i could paste my little doodles in it like flower petals. and put all of my stickers and pretty slices of papers inside. theres a dog squeaking outside. i don't think dogs should be making that noise. i hope the little guy is ok.

anyway, that was so very off topic. what i was trying to say is that this little blag of mine is sposed to be my surrogate diary. i have this issue online (and even in writing) where i over-perceive myself ("perceive" is a pretty-sounding word. so is sieve.) and my online presence bc its so customizable and because im so disconnected from my sense of self. im a people pleaser even when im writing in a private little diary cause im always thinking, my mom is going to read it, how will this sound to my mom when she reads it, oh god my mom, my mom, my mom (and, to a lesser extent, other people). i hate it. i feel prickled and trapped and smothered sometimes, but dear god i love my mom more than anything. but still, sometimes i feel like im in 1984 and shes reading my thoughts as well as my texts before i can delete them. but also, she pays for me to exist -its a mixed bag with high highs and low lows.

im really hoping that the self-perception thing doesn't happen this time. i hope i can have a better self-concept and be a better person. ive wasted maybe 2 years (i don't want to say that ☹︎) on being rock bottom unhappy, on being filled with hatred for myself, on dreading my own body and face, on corroding and ruminating for too long, until i found myself incapable of loving and v isolated feeling. its an awful way to exist because you deny yourself and other people so much beauty, and because it hampers your ability to really love and be there for other people. i wanna talk about that more (and i spose i can here)

-partially my sadness was/is cause im lesbian and m being raised catholic. ive got a lot of issues to work thorugh hahahaha. or, should i say, teeheeheehee. (LEGALIZE SAYING TEEHEEHEE!!! PEOPLE R SO MEAN AND THEY SPIT ON ME WHEN I WRITE "TEEHEEHEE" INSTEAD OF HAHAHA)

dear god this is very stream of consciousness. well, anyway. i'm not writing it to be read (or at least trying NOT to write it to be read). im writing it to communicate with myself. thats not working very well, i just read through the whole thing again.

i hope this gives me a sense of purity (not like weird sex/virginity stuff, but mental purity, like pure love or pure salt or pure vinegar, with no issues, just clear and soft and good) and of self, like prayer. id probably believe in god without the church and them being mean to lesbians and girls and non catholics and so many other ppl and whatnot bc i love to think that love inhabits everything and i sincerely deeply in my little heart of hearts think it does. i think i might believe in god??? i don't know. i am trying my best pookies.

im a girlblogger cause im a girl!! also im sincerely really trying to be okay and happy. and maybe be buddhist? i got this lovely slim little book by a buddhist monk thich nhat hanh called "true love" and i want that. i want to be a good kind person to myself and everybody else. as karissa love (she is my comfort youtuber and i adore her v much) puts it, i want to radiate love. that sounds a little crazy but perchance i am a little crazy.

perchance.

also, darn it, i cursed. ive decided im sposed to not curse, so that when i do people are very shocked like "wow omg she said f*ck??? she never says f*ck!!!" and think its a big deal and everything. i could also swear tons so ppl think im tough, but i don't want to scare anynody and i curse like a toddler bc im so out of practice. oh well.

anyway thats the first entry! hello world!! i hope im ok and that this helps me.

mwah

#first post #girlblogging #blogger #diary entry

[phrynewrites]

If ur still accepting prompts, “Maybe if you stopped staring at them and actually talked to them, you might have a chance." sounds like something Love Letter AU Daya would tell Whippedsco I mean Bosco before The Manuscript™️ happens

Hi hun!! This is a bit inspired by all our chatting about Daya's role in love letter au (if anyone wants any insight, we've had A Lot of thoughts and I'd love to chat about it!!). Thank you for being patient with me while I get the *writing vibes* back. I hope you enjoy!

_____

“Maybe if you stopped staring at her and actually talked to her, you might have a chance.” Daya pulled Bosco’s office door closed behind her, letting the blinds rattle. 

“Good morning, Daya.” Bosco couldn’t help the coarse tone, flicking their pen once, twice, three times. “I love when I come into work and am immediately confronted with the perceived failings of my love life.” 

Bosco tried to keep themself flat, composed, and convey the incorrect nature of Daya’s perception. Bosco was staring, but it was perfectly reasonable and none of Daya’s business. 

Because there Jasmine was, fixing her hair into two neat French braids. Her fingers wove that fine strawberry blonde hair seamlessly. And she had bobby pins fitted between those plush lips. And though she couldn’t see her work, that little wrinkle between her brows dug in as she concentrated… 

But it wasn’t as though they had to admit to that. If they did, they’d never hear the end of it from Daya, who’d make it her second job to fling them into the copy room wherever Jasmine was in there, locking the door behind them. Or offer for Bosco to braid her hair the next time she saw Jasmine working on it.

So Bosco took up their manuscript—one they were promised would be a contender for a Pulitzer—and began marking in sweeping red motions, glancing up only when they heard Daya start moving the letter tray, coffee mug, and is warmer off their desk and into a pile on the floor. She perched on the now empty edge, leaning forward, propping her elbow on her knee. 

Daya snatched the manuscript and tossed it idly at the pile of Bosco’s discarded items. “I can’t confront a love life you don’t even have.” 

“You sure are trying,” Bosco muttered. “You think having a good love life is like…fucking all the secretaries downstairs,” Bosco said, crossing their arms. They knew they looked petulant. And they felt like a child, harboring a crush they had no idea what to do with. And they knew, like always, Daya wasn’t giving into their line of reasoning either, no matter how hard and how often they tried to push it. 

Daya came closer, snatching the pen from their hand as well and tossing it into the pile. “I think it’s better than you staring at the secretary through your half-closed blinds and doodling little hearts with her initials in them.”

“I did talk to her this morning,” Bosco pressed, getting up and gathering the manuscript. “And I bought her a coffee, which we talked about. So you can’t say that I’m not talking to her.” 

Daya turned. “But did you-” 

“No, I did not get pretentious about the coffee.”  

“Wow, you must really like her.” Daya took the manuscript once again and sat on it. “Even though your conversation topics are crazy boring. I truly don’t get how she finds the energy to twirl her hair while you talk about ‘the importance of a proper espresso to steamed milk ratio’”

Bosco huffed, but conceded. “You’re only going to be happy if I walk in, throw myself all over reception, and say ‘Hey, Jasmine. Good morning. That blouse makes your tits look great. Please be my girlfriend because I love you.’” 

“I mean, I would follow it with something about taking the blouse off, but otherwise I think it’s solid.” 

“You’re a menace to society.” Bosco made their way to the door before throwing it open. “Get out of my office so I can actually work.” 

Daya stood. “And by work, do you mean, go tell Jasmine exactly that and hope it leads back to here? I can help you clear your desk, quick.” 

Bosco grabbed her wrist and pulled. Hard. They sent her stumbling across the threshold, bracing on the door frame. And they followed a stern reminder that Daya should do their work with a slammed door and locked handle. 

But even as they settled back in, placed their letter tray and coffee mug and mug warmer back on their desk, unearthed their manuscript and began marking once more, Bosco was distracted again. 

Because there Jasmine was, right across the way, reapplying her lipstick. That soft pink pout wrapping around the lip of her coffee, the one Bosco had gotten her that morning. And when she pulled away, she smiled against it. 

And Bosco thought that maybe they’d like to say something to her that would make her smile like that again. Anything that would make her smile because of them. 

#daya is a helpful menace in this au #because bosco and jasmine are sticking themselves in the friend zone #even though they're both totally into each other #and daya knows the extent of bosco's crush and it's like massive #and can approximate jasmine's crush because she really doesn't hide her feelings well #and daya enacts Several plans to get these two morons together and is consistently irritated when they find a way to ruin the plans #because neither of them are willing to confront their feelings #for myhusbandharryhamilton #asks answered #jasco #rpdr fanfiction #rdpr fic #rdpr fanfic #jasco love letter au

[entomjinx]

Hello!

Before you continue: Eat something, drink something, take your meds, and get some rest if you haven't. This blog will still exist tomorrow. <3

I don't think I ever had a proper pinned post for this blog, so I'm doing that now! (Last updated: 9/23/2023)

My name is Jinx, and I use all pronouns. You may perceive me however you see fit to, and it is impossible for you to be incorrect.

This blog is for my orginal content. I do not reblog things here unless I am adding to it, or doing an ask game of some sort. The blog where I reblog literally everything and anything I see is @jinx13gxa2 . Follow that one at your own risk, because there is so much spam.

My ask box is always open, and anons stay on. I'm to anxious to leave asks on people's pages 99% of the time so I want to keep that curtesy extended for others like me. I'm a loser with too much going on in my head and I'd love to talk with you! Honestly, I'm probably as anxious about answering you as you are about sending something!

This links you too all of my socials.

I mostly write fics on Ao3, but I occasionally post doodles and such here too. I love to do headcanon lists, but I haven't made any in a long time.

Fandoms I currently create content for:

Fairy Tail (Link to the post about the LGBTQIA+ friendly server that I help run (still semi-active: 2/28/23)) (I don't currently plan on coming back.)

One Piece (Main Fandom as of 2023)

Fandoms I previously created content for, but likely will never return to:

Edens Zero (No new posts.)

I would like to keep this blog as discourse free as possible, as every time I've been thrown into it, I've been harassed, told to kill myself, and in two cases, doxxed. Some of that harassment still continues to this day, and I regularly have to delete anon asks with disturbing content. I will block drama causers without response, as I no longer feel the need to try and back sass you to "one up" you like I did as a teenager. I'm 22, I've grown passed that, and I'm tired. We can coexist quietly and amicably or we can block one another and move on.

Below this is the context of the previous discourse I was involved in, because I'd rather be transparent for anyone just showing up. Warning: It's not as short as I'd like. (TWs: mentions of stalking, harassment, death threats, and suicide baiting)

I will not be deleting any old discourse. It is something I was involved in regardless of how much I wish I wasn't, so I refuse to just erase it despite my personal growth. Everyone may do stupid shit as a teen, however, that will not stop me from holding myself to a higher standard explicitly because it's me. 2019-2020 ish is where the last of the public responses end, I believe.

When I first joined the Fairy Tail fandom, I had a real life stalker, who used the ship Gray/Juvia (and many others) as an example of why I would have to fall in love with him eventually. I was fourteen. This fucked me up beyond belief.

Because of that whole fiasko, I politely asked shippers of the ship and people who really loved Juvia's character to DNI. I wanted nothing to do with it because it brought up all of that trauma and fear. I immediatly began recieving harassment and I was being told that the only reason I didn't like them was because I shipped queer ships in the fandom and thought Juvia was "in the way." The latter didn't bother me much, but the mass amounts of messages telling me to kill myself was incredibly straining.

I fully acknowledge that none of the following was the correct way to go about things, even if it was much better than the alternatives(ex: harassing back).

So I started putting out little anlyses showing the toxicity of the relationship and Juvia's various mental health issues that are never dealt with in the series, and I've even written fics about it. The harassment only grew worse.

I couldn't---and still really don't---understand why people would seek out people who don't like what they do just to harass them, and vice versa. That's why I and a few others who didn't enjoy the ship created a vent blog to keep all of the dislike for the ship contained, and even encouraged shippers to block us, which unfortunately, did not work. We wanted it to stay away from anyone who didn't want to see it, but to be there for those who needed that space to vent about it without it being traced back to their blogs where they could be harassed and sent death threats for disliking something. (This blog is no longer used by anyone. it's been fully shut down, as it should have never existed at all.)

It backfired greatly, and even now I get 15-20 anon asks a week telling me how I should end my life. Sometimes they spike up randomly into 100 a week for shits and giggles.

Because of the way that the harassers treated my friends and I, I believed fiction affected reality on a 1:1 ratio for a long time, which it doesn't. I thought the whole "Anti vs proshipping" discourse was a firm stance on your morals because no one corrected me, yet I was being harrassed by both, which is what forced me to come to terms with the fact that I was being played like a fiddle for a fool.

The entire thing was incredibly immature and ridiculous. Fiction does not affect reality on a 1:1 scale, and it's better for dark topics to be explored in fiction than in real life. That doesn't mean I should have been harassed for not wanting to interact with a certain aspect of it, but that also means I should have just blocked people who were harassing me instead of giving them the angry responses they wanted.

I will fully admit to many of my responses being made out of anger, fear and with more generalizations than they should have been because of the above. Those people were also harassing my friends and I, so I do not feel remorse for being unkind, only for being unfair with my comparisons of fiction to reality.

I have never told anyone to kill themselves, that they should be caught in an accident, or harassesed anyone. I hate the way it feels to be told those things, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemies nor the people who harassed me.

Should you scroll down into my blog, you may encounter some of this very angry discourse, and you will, due tumblr showing you the most recent posts first, encounter some of the final, angriest pieces of that discourse without the context for any of it. So here's your context, make of it what you will, and I can only hope that you don't judge me solely on 14-18 year old me's poor descisions and reactions.

#pinned intro #bio post #if there's typos in this oh well #i'll fix it later

[ashley-me-and-rsd]

Ashley, Me, and RSD (1/3)

This is a video about me. 

[At least, it would’ve been - but the animation file was corrupted right while I was in the homestretch. So, this is a blog post about me.] [Here, as a treat, here's some of the doodles I did to practice.]

Before I talk about me, though, I need to talk about RSD.

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, or RSD, is a label used to reference a particular type of emotional dysregulation- in which, rejection causes significantly heightened negative feelings and intense emotional pain.

It isn't a formal medical diagnosis, but the term is often used by doctors and therapists when they notice this type of exaggerated behavior.

Most times, perceived or even anticipated rejection causes severe anxiety and far more intense emotions in individuals with RSD than in individuals without.

I am one of these people.

I feel like it was always something I dealt with, even as a little kid. Like, even for typical things most kids get in trouble for at some point, getting in trouble with my parents caused me to have complete and total meltdowns.

Even as a child, in these situations where I got yelled at or reprimanded, I truly, honestly believed myself to be a horrible person.

Which, I've learned, is a pretty intense thing for a kid to feel about themselves.

So, to get around that, I simply decided that I would never get in trouble.

At all.

Ever.

I think it made me seem like a kid who was incredibly well behaved. Except for the occasions when I would get pushed past my limit, and I'd lash out in sheer emotional over-stimulation.

But I could usually get it under control after the meltdown, and go back to promising I would never get in trouble again.

When I got older, though, things got more complex. I thought I had figured out how to avoid making anyone around me upset ever, (and thanks to some additional bullying and humiliation in school) it essentially meant 80-90% of my energy in any given situation was going towards ensuring I was pleasing everyone around me.

And as I got older, being somebody-who-everybody-always-likes-forever got harder and harder to maintain.

School was easy. To not get in trouble at school, you just had to not interrupt the class and turn in your work on time. I was one of those kids who got pretty good grades without really studying anyways, so school worked out for me.

Socializing was a completely different story. There wasn't a textbook you could open or flashcards you could make that told you what the right response was to your friend's comment about whatever particular topic was on the docket.

It was something that other people did so effortlessly, but I was constantly getting stuck on- trying to think of the "right" thing to say.

By the time I had settled on something that was safe and appropriate and also clever and funny, the conversation had long since moved on.

A lot of times, this made me seem really quiet. It wasn’t that I didn't want to talk- I really really did want to jump in, but I never trusted that what I had to say was good enough.

But I was also nervous about being too quiet, yknow? Kids talked about you being quiet behind your back. Quiet kids were creepy and annoying the way they trailed behind everyone else, never saying anything.

At least, this is what I assumed people thought about me. It was what I believed about myself.

I was really lucky the school let me take my lunch into the library when they noticed I wouldn't go into the cafeteria anymore.

So yeah. I was terrified of being wrong in pretty much any given situation.

Because if I was wrong, then I wasn't right.

If I wasn't right, then I wasn't good.

If I wasn't good, it meant I was bad.

And when you're bad, people are mad at you.

When people are mad at you, they begin to hate you.

When enough people hate you, you lose everything that was ever important to you.

It was like if the book "if you give a mouse a cookie" was about committing a minor social faux pau and your own mental gymnastics make you wish someone had just shot you instead.

If I had to try and put what it was like into words, it was like a parasite lived in half of my psyche. A parasite whose only goal was convincing me to believe the absolute worst about myself and the world at any given point.

It pretended to be me. Talking to me using my own voice. Convincing me it was my own thoughts.

"They're looking at me."

"They're looking at my shirt."

"It's a stupid shirt. How babyish. How childish. How could I have not noticed before leaving the house this morning?"

"Now they think something’s wrong with me."

Something’s wrong with me… (Part 1/3)

[designsbybearsy]

W E L C O M E

A proud cat mom of four & a self-taught artist with no specific type of craft, medium or passion; I just do what feels right. ✨

I’ve not only created this page for others to enjoy all the work/art I create but also as encouragement for myself to never stop from re-creating all the energy around me.⠀⠀⠀⠀

I don’t have a specific type of art, medium, or passion, I just do whatever feels right. I have been self-taught my whole life as drawing/doodling, and crocheting/sewing/friendship bracelets—really anything DIY seemed to be a natural thing since I was a little girl. I’ve recently gotten into beadwork. teaching myself along the way & bringing out my inner mètis roots and exploring that side of my heritage.

I’d say most of my inspiration comes from my state of mind throughout meditation and everyday life so I’m almost always grabbing a felt-tip pen, a ball of yarn, and/or a beading needle & seed beads and expressing how I feel through my mediums.

I believe art and just any passion in general can be complicated, but that’s one of the many reasons why I love it. You never know how people are going to perceive your work, but regardless–they’re going to feel SOMETHING.⠀⠀⠀⠀

Thanks for joining the fam and joining me on my creative journey and all the continued support, love, and respect. ⠀⠀⠀⠀

Sending so much love your way ⠀⠀

-bearsy💘

~F O L L O W MY JOURNEY~

http://tiktok.com/@designsbybearsy

#me #art #designsbybearsy #welcome post

[vestboyfriends]

"#prev tags saved my night#op u are amazing i want to discuss steddie with you#love the gifs too obviously#im chewing drywall as we speak#steddie makes me want to bury myself alive#/pos" - bestie let's go i'm game if you are!!! we can talk about steddie and about how these two little fruits are ruining lives left right and center i'm downnnn 💜

omg hi!!! and yes ofc i'm always down to talk about steddie!! seeing this ask actually made my day bc ive been missing them a lot lately <\3

so bestie what are the brainworms for today? personally im thinking a lot about the parallels between a few st4ncy/steddie scenes and how eddie perceives not hesitating as a form of strength and true love (see: him underlining how nancy didn't waste a second to jump in to save steve and how that made it such a big and obvious sign of love that his "cynical eyes have ever seen") and how it could connect to him hesitating in the make him pay scene. these are just scrambled thoughts without much body as of now but im trying to make sense of them.

more generally my brain has been plagued with pre-s1 steddie for a while now... the idea of eddie and steve crushing on each other during their first years of highschool makes me want to play hopscotch in traffic (/pos). idk theres just something in the concept of eddie doodling steve during class instead of taking notes and steve stealing glances at eddie in the cafeteria... or steve trying to get over his crush by dating girls that resemble eddie in some way... eddie trying his best to exorcise this crush out of his body bc its pointless and its only hurting him and why does he have to like harrington of all people. So yeah. this

wbu!!! :D

#sorry for the amount of brainrot i showed here i couldn't help it #ik im too much sometimes i hope it isn't that much of a problem <\3 #ves answers

[ask-artsy-oncie]

I used to do self-inserts all the time and now I just could never do that anymore because my confidence has completely dropped through the floor. It feels like I could never develop a believable in-universe character and meet my own standards. On top of that, I don’t feel like I’m even likeable enough to create a self-insert I could ever justify bringing into existence. 

I don’t know how much of that has come from learning I’m non-binary because a lot of the time I don’t even want to be perceived anymore. 

#vent #ruminating #negative #have a little doodle of how i perceive myself

[reflectionsofneptune]

little things I associate with the Mercury signs.

Little dreamy, abstract things I associate with the Mercury signs in Astrology.

Aries Mercury

Authoritative. When I want something, I make it clear. Crystal clear. No beating around the bush. A forceful way of speaking. Don’t talk about it, be about it. Short sentences. A hint of arrogance. Competitive edge seeping through my words. What can I say, I like to be a winner? At all times. A raspy voice. Adopting a youthful charm when it suits me. Attuned to perceiving danger in my environment. Disliking an over-emphasis of niceties in conversation. Keeping it real. Exercising to clear the mind. Pep - talks. The rev of an engine. Pedal to the metal. Talking to me, I need you to bring your A Game and something new. Conversation needs to be stimulating. 

Taurus Mercury

Savouring. Words need to be savoured. Like beauty, they only get better with age. Listen carefully and hear what I stand for. Slowing down. Something about the handwriting. Cursive. An even tone. Words flow out of my mouth like maple syrup oozes down the height of a stack of fluffy, warm pancakes. Stubbornness. When am I ever wrong? Pictures, or it’s not real. Proof being recognised from what my base senses pick up. Inspiration from nature. A level-head. Choosing to see the beauty in my environment. For better or for worse. Don’t be fooled by my lack of conversation, I peep everything. 

Gemini Mercury

Riddles. I’m not going to tell you the answer but the curve of my lip might reveal itself when you’re getting close. Starting one conversation with one subject. Finishing the conversation with a completely different one. Playfulness. Humour as a tool of deflection. Quick texts. Leading conversations. Making a best friend in the supermarket. Another one, on the bus.  Seeing the duality of things in my environment. Information is like crack. I can’t get enough. Multiple tabs, open. Nervous energy. Fiddling. Mimicking your mannerisms if I like you, verbally ripping you apart if it tickles my fancy. Or not, I get distracted quite easily so you may be let off the hook.

Cancer Mercury

Introspective. Thinking about the past. Sometimes not finding my way back to the present. Emotions filtering through my words. Perceptions are protective. A vintage film, the introduction devoid of colour. An interest in knowing where one comes from, what comforts someone. Needing to cleanse myself of everybody’s emotional baggage. Again. Pathetic fallacy. Finishing your sentences. Promise its not on purpose. Wanting security from my environment. A psychological slant to conversations. A rich inner imagination. A diary, signed, sealed and under my pillow. Withdrawing into the cocoon of my thoughts when I feel threatened. 

Leo Mercury 

Commanding. A leadership position sounds good to me. Confidence in my thoughts. Words that can brighten up your life. Disney movies. Teasing conversations. Class clown. My thoughts are copyrighted. Bluffing. The curve a chest, puffed out to its maximum, makes. Talking loudly so I’m sure you hear me. Describing something in such detail, so you can feel as if you were there. Piping hot tea. Intellect and ego tied together.  Creativity expressed through speech. Seeing my immediate environment as a stage. Conversations in the mirror. The little grooves formed at the corner of the eyes when the smile is genuine. Blowing my own trumpet because if I don’t, who will?

Virgo Mercury

Organised. Seeing flaws in my environment. A to-do list, covered on both sides. Polite but not foolish. The spine of a book, crease free. Stepping back in conversation. The few creases that appear on the skin when a nose is wrinkled. Monotone. Advice given freely. Or withdrawing all help if I see it going through one ear and out the other. Discernment in conversation. Sticky notes. Attuned to see the bullshit in conversation. In life. Helpful suggestions. Take it or leave it. Mind feels like a hamster wheel. How do you turn this thing off?  An upward line of a tick, in red. Not an excuse, but know that the harder I am on you, the harder I am on myself really. 

Libra Mercury

Flirting. Feels as natural as breathing does. A sweet talker. The stem of cherry. A gentle lilt that comes alive in conversation. A fickle mind. Forever weighing up the pro’s and cons. Birdsong, cutting through morning dew. Wanting peace from my environment. Trying to maintain peace in my environment. A white flag fluttering in the wind, atop a hill. Indecision feels paralysing. Waiting for you to finish speaking before I provide an opposing point of view. Feigning innocence. Learning about myself through conversations with others. Sometimes not liking what I see. 3 sides to a story. I am capable of a decision, I just feel better when the internal scales of my thoughts are balanced. 

Scorpio Mercury

Power. Power plays in conversation. Checkmate. Words are comparable to pieces on a chessboard. Not a fan of small talk. Unless it’s for my benefit. Intuition on point. And then some. Probing. Trust issues. Talking to someone for a minute but deducing years of their life from a single meeting. Burner phones in a drawer. The eerie silence that comes around, say 4 AM. Secrets, mine and yours, help me fall asleep at night. Receipts for weeks, days and months. I’ve got it all. Past hurts cut deep in my psyche. Eyebrows pulled together. Pretending to be deaf when convenient. Subject changes. A full stop. Knowledge is power. I am capable of sharing intimate details of myself…..you first though. 

Sagittarius Mercury

YOLO. Sending those kinda texts to the wrong group chat by mistake. Saying what we were all thinking, even if it’s not the ‘right’ time, ‘cos fuck it. Slidin’ in the DM’s. Popping up like it’s nothing. You know me. Is time even real? The underside of a desk, covered with tags, love notes, and condom wrappers. Going off on social media. For a good cause, most of the time. Falling back on spirituality when life gets tough. Thought patterns are expansive and influenced by cultures and theories different than mine. Appreciating the differences in life. In people. Gift of the gab. That person who’s laughing when no one else is. Believing in abundance because that's what my environment reflects back to me. Stretching the fine line between truth and fantasy…….’cos fuck it.

Capricorn Mercury

Blue ticks. Time is of the essence. Thoughts are disciplined. A 3 tier desk organiser, stuffed to the brim with documents. Elocution lessons. Did you know I used to stutter? Deadpan jokes. A raised eyebrow. Judging people. We all do it, it’s innate to us. Keep your friends close. Enemies closer. Voicemail. I don’t need people to like me, but respect me is all I ask. A calculating mind. Always planning ahead. Sudoku puzzles. People give themselves away all the time, you just need to listen. Believing people’s actions over words. Thoughts focused on external recognition became a burden I often didn’t ask for, weighs me down.

Aquarius Mercury

Observant. Seeing the subtle layers that make up human behaviour. People are fascinating. A 360 way of looking at things. Reverb on an electric guitar. Solution-focused. A finger on the pulse of undiscovered knowledge. Static from a radio dial. I’m not afraid to question everything. An outdated statue, tipped. A love and hate relationship with time. Flashes of intuition. Needing time to process thoughts. A cool perspective. Shades of sunglasses, tinted yellow. Including people I’ve never met in my thoughts. In my dreams. My wishes. A Brave New World? I’m still waiting for people to step up and take responsibility.

Pisces Mercury

The red and white swirls of a helter-skelter ride. The path connecting my thoughts and my words is a little beaten. But not many people have bothered to venture this way. Pillow talk during the day. Drifting off in conversation. Overspilling in conversations. Or people, overspilling details of their life onto me. Missing appointments. Two circles merging into one if you stare long enough. Tapped into Source. Weaving you a dream with my words so good, I start to believe it. The afterword in a novel. Doodles in a margin. Sensitivity in conversation. Picking up a million and one signals from my environment. Using music to lose myself and ironically, find myself in the end.

————

| little thoughts about venus placements

| little thoughts about the mars placements

| little thoughts about the saturn placements

#astrology #astro #mine #zodiac #zodiac signs #mercury #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquairus #pisces #astrology observation

[barry-j-blupjeans]

for the fluff list, Blupjeans and 24!!!

[Image ID: Another ask, this time from @tentatively-positive-3, that says "#24 blupjeans?" END ID]

24. “I know you might not think so, but you look really good right now.”

((general/fluff prompts - accepting!!))

--

Barry had his backpack over one shoulder as he pushed open the door to his and Lup's quarters. The lights were dim and the blinds were shut and there was Lup, piled under a few blankets and drawing something in a journal Lucretia had given her last year. Barry's mood- it doesn't dampen, but he softens, seeing Lup like this. He shut the door gently and placed his bag next to it, before going to sit next to her.

The journal is more of a sketchbook if they were being honest. He and Lup both had dozens of journals filled with scientific findings, or just thoughts and feelings. This one doesn't have any lines on the page, and Lup was going at it with her pencil. A lot of it Barry couldn't decipher, which was concerning, but Lup was decent at drawing on a good day.

"You okay, babe?" he asked, leaning over just a bit more to get a better look at the drawings. It looked like her, over and over and over again, different each time. "What'cha drawing?"

Lup didn't say anything for a bit, her pencil paused. She rolls over onto her back and looks up at him.

"The people on this plane are dickwads," she said and Barry nodded sympathetically.

In terms of local friendliness, they were okay, but only if you looked how they wanted you to look. Unluckily for the crew, none of them matched the standards of beauty met here. The inhabitants of this world looked like gods on earth, having almost an ethereal beauty to them.

Their rejection didn't hit too hard for Barry, who already knew he was kind of plain-looking and had grown used to it. Davenport and Merle couldn't really care less, though Davenport was peeved by the fact they were not allowed into the cities. Lucretia seemed to be taking it okay, and Magnus had been offended for a bit, but Barry honestly couldn't tell if he was pretending or not.

Taako was... fine, after a few days. Insulted, of course, because if there was one thing Taako prided himself on, it was how he looked. They expected Lup to bounce back just the same, but...

It wasn't just a beauty thing, for Lup.

"I know you might not think so," Barry said gently, "but you look really good right now.”

Lup cracked a smile, but it faded after a few seconds.

"You know that's not the problem, babe," she said.

"I know," Barry said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I dunno," Lup said, looking at the journal. "I... feel like I'm being stupid. It's not like- they're not saying I'm not a woman, they're saying we're not people, because we look so bad. But my brain is like "oh, they don't perceive you how you want to be perceived? Dysphoiraaaaa tiiiime." It fucking sucks, Bar, I hate it."

"It sounds sucky," Barry said genuinely. "I'm here for- for whatever I can do to help, Lup, I promise. Is drawing helpful?"

"The other option is finding something to blow up, so yeah, I guess," she said, turning back on her side towards the journal. "Usually when I draw myself I'm like- normal, right?" She flips back a few pages and points at a self-portrait. It was a little abstract, but beautiful nonetheless. "Good, right?"

"Yeah," Barry said.

She turned back to the page she was on and pointed at one of the various Lup's she had done. This one was messy, scribbled, and smudged. It only had one arm, and half a face, and looked, frankly, exhausted.

"That's how I feel, I guess," she said, pushing it towards him. "Metaphorically, 'cus I got my arms and my face, but it doesn't- I don't feel whole. I feel- not great. Uncomfortable, maybe. I mean there's a reason it's called dysphoria, so."

"Yeah," Barry said again, thumbing at the page. There was another sketchy Lup in the corner, rolled into a tight ball, just kinda laying there. And another about midpage, looking like she was falling through the air and desperately trying to catch herself on something. And another, hunched over, and another, pulling at her face, looking uncomfortable.

And another, and another, and another. There was barely any un-doodled on space.

"We could probably find something to blow up," Barry said after a moment of silence. "This distraction obviously isn't working, though I do like the art. It's very... it gets across your point very well. But, uh, we could definitely find something for you to blow up if you want. And then we can come back and cuddle, if you also want that."

Lup made a noise of consideration and then nodded.

"Alright," she said, sitting up a bit. "I can get down with that plan."

#tw gender dysphoria #<- in case reading about it might make anyone's worse #blupjeans #barry bluejeans #lup #i've got some big big feelings about this sdklfsdf #ise cube writing #mine #asks #anon #tentatively-positive-3