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#so cathartic and meaningful to me over the years OH my god
llamahearted · 6 months
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anything natural can be tended to, cultivated (& you are no exception)
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crimeronan · 2 years
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march, august, september, ancient for fic asks <3
march: do you listen to music whilst writing?
yeah!! but i don't usually listen to music with lyrics, unless they're in a language i don't know. i'll go on youtube and find instrumental compilations that fit the mood i'm writing. you would be amazed by how many there are!
august: are any of your fics associated with certain genres/artists/songs/etc?
oh a SHITLOAD of my fics are titled after or inspired by certain songs. the two bands/artists that have the most fic influence are definitely rise against & regina spektor. unbecoming jordan hennessy, on the other hand, is an entire series where every piece is titled after one of the lyrics in unbecoming by starset, which is Such a hennessy & the girls song that i just.... hhhh
september: share a comment or review which still warms your heart?
people have left me a lot of really wonderful and deeply personal comments over the years ;-; a few come to mind -- here is one that's long and that i still need to reply to on ao3, but which is fairly recent and makes me lose my Mind whenever i reread it:
"ASD;HGLAJR;UWAGHFSDJKV.NLJ;OFOHULTR.EIJA/S I'M IN TEARS author, this fic is one of the most gorgeous things i've ever read. HOW did you manage to make this so hilarious and meaningful at once? i LOVE the platonic ronanessy that feels like a slow burning dumpster fire (in the best way). i want to give every character in this a puppy, a warm cup of cocoa, and a big hug (lmao they would all hate that). your hennessy made me reread cdth and mi because i missed how frickin wonderful she is the first time around and now i think i'm in love with her. also, not to sound like a completely crazed fangirl, but your characterization of adam is just. 😭🤗 i think i've read chapters 17-19 three or four times now (AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN!) ngl, adam's "i wish you had died" in chap 4 almost made me stop reading the fic but i am SO GLAD i didn't because you know what you're doing. both hennessy and adam seemed so mean and awful in the beginning, and the way you slowly unpacked their respective mental states/past trauma was just *incoherent bawling* sorry if this is weird or too personal, but this fic resonated with me so much. i have bipolar and i'm more than familiar with SI and i was hesitant to read this in case it wrecked my fragile mental state, but that "Healing" tag really didn't lie. this was unbelievably cathartic and immeasurably comforting. thank you, thank you, thank you. i didn't know i needed a 113K anti-soulmate aus soulmate au to cure my book hangover from reading trc+tdt in <1 week and cure my depression(/j), but i did. seriously, thank you so much, author. i feel very called out. this isn't my fav quote from this because there are FAR TOO MANY ridiculously sweet moments to choose. this has a special place in my heart:
“I’m prettier than Parrish.” “Not to me.”
asashgj;afghkavnsa 😍😍😍 whoops i just realized this comment is a long rambling mess. sorry! i just wanted to say that YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE GOD and i can't wait for jordeclan thing/whatever the next installment in this fic is! if you read this whole thing ily and i hope you have a great day!"
ancient: the first fic you ever posted online?
it's long since lost to the ether, but it was a twilight fic i posted in 2007 on ffnet. it was set in the 1920's during edward's "rebellious years," and it involved him accidentally attacking & then turning a teenage girl OC.
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I’d really like to eventually make video essays, particularly about Catra, as I relate heavily to her, and a great deal of what she went through with Shadow Weaver parallels my own upbringing in ways I’d never seen depicted before, including Catra being angry and lashing out. She made me cry a lot, but it often felt cathartic somehow. I’ve seen a lot of parallels between her & Chloe from LiS as well (she and Rachel Amber resonated really deeply with me as well) but, if this makes sense, I feel
as though everything important about these characters has already been said. Spelled out in a myriad of metas (your writing is incredible, by the way, and I love the way you analyze things) or in existing video essays (I watched beeftony’s recently and thought it was spot-on) and I’m terrified of being derivative + disorganized. (I have ADHD.) I used to be a prolific writer; it was my primary source of enjoyment, and I turned to it over social interaction often. But I lost the vast majority of my writing when my iPhone decided to die four years ago, and the majority of it wasn’t backed up. (Idiotic, I know.) Six years worth of material, including a novel that was my pride and joy. It completely extinguished my spark, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to write anything meaningful since. Finding She-Ra has inspired me again, but I just don’t know that I’ll be able to write or create in general the way I used to....I’m really sorry that this got so long....
Oh wow, I’m so sorry that happened to you, that is a literal nightmare and something I might never recover from. My writing has so much of me invested in it and losing it would depress me and take all the steam out of me too. I can understand not even knowing how to start rebuilding and lacking the drive to do so. But hey, you can always start small. Try engaging with already written metas to add points the op may have missed or give a slightly different perspective. Write some one shots of small scenes you have in your head that make you happy. Something that would be be unique and something you could hopefully really enjoy (or at least get the juices flowing) is to write about, like you said, why you identify with Catra. Maybe there’s only so many ways to write meta about this stuff (though I don’t even think that’s true), but a new perspective on something from a new person is never trite.
And hey, tbh there’s not a lot of video essays out there. If you want to enter a ‘market’ that’s less saturated, try there. But god help you trying to get an audience, YouTube’s algorithm is the bane of my existence. This is why, despite doing both, I’m known as a writer and not a vidder lmao.
Look, just find some way to express yourself. Put something out there. That’s how you start. And I think you’ll find this fandom is welcoming. Really, in a lot of ways it’s a support group for traumatized people, so you’ll fit right in.
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aubrey-plaza · 4 years
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I've seen a lot of fic rec lists lately given everything happening. Do you have any recommendations to get us through the lock down? p.s. I love everything you write.
omg thanks anon!!
I know these are scary times so have here a quick and dirty list of my fave fics starting with Staubrey and then just... veering offcourse. They’re all femslash except the one I marked with an asterisk but yeah. 
as always, I’m not gonna rec my own fics on my this list bc that’s cheating but if you wanna read them pls click this link and that ends the self promo for today lmao
 recs under the cut!
Stacie x Aubrey
Snowbound  
by ACamp_toner / @stepintotherevolve​ (22.171, complete, rated E)
summary: The Bellas go on a ski trip and Staubrey happens
notes: this has amazing smut and features just enough jealousy to spark these two idiots into a meaningful talk. there’s also side bechloe and a healthy dose of humour.  
The Howl
by @tiny-maus-boots​ (30.739, wip/currently being written, AU)
summary: Stacie's pack is forcing her into a corner but Fate has other plans for her - if she doesn't die first.
notes: werewolf!Stacie and vampire!Aubrey who meet on a full moon and fuck. there’s more to it and a great backstory that’s being wonderfully developed (trust me, I’ve been told of the plans and I’m ri-ve-ted). also has some amazing soft moments and a fab spark of heat.  
Prelude in Lydian Mode
by knappster / @ss-staubrey​ (5972, complete)
summary: Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always.
notes: I will rec this fic til the day I die. It’s such a lovely brand of staubrey and a perfect example of the idiots to lovers trope.  
and the songbirds are singing (like they know the score)
by angelranger (2326, complete)
summary: It came as a slight surprise to Stacie that Aubrey, the same Aubrey who had grown up in a strict and dysfunctional household, was just so good with her daughter.
Bella seemed to unearth a side of Aubrey that was just so unbelievably soft, a side Stacie is almost positive even Aubrey didn’t know existed. But there she is, sat on the carpeted floor in front of the coffee table, sat right next to Bella, drawing outlines for the four year old to colour in.
notes: oh god i love a good, soft bella fic and this one hits all the right notes. it’s sweet and lovely and features singing Bella to sleep which is like. my weakness. go leave some more love on this deserved fic!
Sansa x Margaery
The Crackpots and These Women
by Netgirl_y2k (8089, complete, WEST WING AU)
summary: "You're in charge of press relations," Yara told Margaery, gesturing to Sansa. "Relate.”
summary: yeah you read that fuckin right that’s a West Wing AU. My love for this mashup has no bounds. It’s so perfectly coy, the way I imagine adult Sansa and Margaery would be, combined with the hopeful tinge of WW, and the pining of a somewhat open ended yet hopeful finish. If you like either of these universes, read this.  
Kind Regards
by MsCFH / @hell-much (9835, complete, explicit, part of a series!)
summary: Margaery Tyrell is determined on setting foot in the Northern market of Westeros by establishing a collaboration between the Tyrell Corporation and Stark Incorporated.
The only problem? The likewise gorgeous and stubborn Deputy Managing Director Sansa Stark.
summary: holy hell this fic is amazing. they hate each other SO MUCH. the author has a vibe setting skill that makes me want to weep. the smut is off the charts hot like there are literally no words. go read it and then read the series bc it’s *that good*. please go get your church lady fan before reading because you WILL need it.  
EXTRA NOTE: same author is writing a post-s6 canon compliant fic where Marg is actually still alive and if you’re looking for a full weekend activity, go ahead and binge this one (it’s a wip but is still being updated)
lay all your love on me
by 1once (9498, complete, show-compliant)
summary: It has been eight years since her demise.
But for the world of her, she cannot figure out why. For what? Why was she alive?
notes: i will say just one thing: flower. magic. okay, i’ll say more things. this fic is the redemption show!marg deserved combined with the fun supernatural magicky aspect of flower magic that’s just so in character. reading this fic feels the way a warm cup of tea in your hands on a cold winter’s day does.  
til you come back home
by heart_nouveau (7978, complete, AU - modern setting)
summary: “Using one-night stands to distract myself from my crush on my roommate counts, right?”
-
Margaery Tyrell is an ambitious law student who needs a perfect grade point average if she wants to stay at the top of her class - and she is not going to throw that away by falling for her very attractive, very sweet roommate, one Sansa Stark.
notes: margaery is a moron with feelings aka my favourite type of character.  
Birds of Prey’s Dinah x Helena
Siren Call
by ThanksForListening (3300, complete, part 2 of a series) 
summary: "It always happened in the quiet moments. The early hours of the morning, when the leftover energy from a mission hadn’t quite disappeared yet. The sleepless nights, when memories clawed their way into her mind and wouldn’t let go until her screams released them. The lazy afternoons, when the radio played softly and melodies she’d almost forgotten danced around her lips. It was only when the world went still that Dinah felt her watching.
She didn’t remember the first time she noticed it. The staring. Maybe it was because Helena was always watching everything and everyone around them that Dinah didn’t realize how frequently that attention fell on her. How it felt different. Helena looked at the world with suspicion and anger and indifference, but not her. She looked at her with something much softer, something she hadn’t found a name for just yet. No word in her arsenal was deep enough or strong enough to describe it.
Whatever it was, she could feel it now.”
notes: gahhhhh this fic. “What do you see,” she finally asked, “when you look at me?” is a line that I’m gonna think about until the day I die. this is the second fic in a series and you can read it as a standalone but the first fic is also fuckin amazing
after the afterparty
by novoaa1 (1181, complete, set right after the movie ends)
summary: The Canary had let loose a delighted snort at that, as if she found the whole thing somehow laughable.
(Which it wasn’t, to be clear—laughable, that is.)
“Are y'all seeing this shit?” she’d turned to ask the rest of them, earning a giddy squeal from Harley and a bemused scoff from Montoya even whilst Helena remained stock still in place, dutifully blinding herself with one hand. “Absolutely adorable.”
“Shut up,” Helena had hissed back more out of instinct than anything else, though her tone was markedly devoid of any real anger.
(And if Helena had felt her cheeks flush ever so slightly beneath her palm at the Canary’s glib assertion, she certainly didn’t let on.)
Or: Sionis falls. The rest of them remain.
notes: just. read it.  
knew your love (before i kissed you)
by z0ejake / @zxyjxy (58.263, wip / currently being written, rated E for the last chapter)
summary: Surviving the massacre of your entire family at the age of eight is a pretty impressive feat. Training for fifteen years in Sicily until you can kill a man with one hand and a hairpin is also a pretty impressive feat. Returning to the city where your family was cut down and killing every single person involved in their deaths is maybe the most impressive feat. Somehow, it's never been enough for Helena.
notes: bro this fic is a masterpiece and zoe is a genius. features absolute moron feral dumb jock helena and my favourite version of dinah: patient and endeared and a little teasing.  
the war is over (and we are beginning)
by ace_verity (12.573, 5/5, complete)
summary: The thing is, Helena has no idea what comes after.
The past fifteen years, she’s had a singular goal. She's never given any thought to what she’d do once she killed the men who murdered her family in front of her.
Maybe, Helena realizes, she never actually thought she’d make it this far.
In which Helena Bertinelli joins a team, buys a cactus, beats up criminals, goes to church, bakes bread, and falls in love.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
notes: this fic is beautiful and perfectly explores a lost Helena. I also love the way Renee is written in this and the whole vibe of the story is just *chefs kiss*
cheap shampoo
by OfElvesAndAliens (1609, complete)
summary: The thing is, Helena is a rigidly focused kind of gal, iron rage forged into skilled precision. Dinah has also noticed it in the little things, like the way she frowns a bit when she's doing something as trivial as writing, her penmanship always neat and firm. That same tiny furrow of her brow is showing up again while she's methodically whisking some eggs in a bowl.
Dinah finds it cute. Fucking sue her.
notes: oh god but i love a bedsharing fic and this one? feeding and post-mission and just winding down together??? ohhhh my god
two extra random goodies just for fun:
Lamplighter
by the_years_between_us (116.915, wip, rated E)
show/ship: The Fall, Stella Gibson/Reed Smith
summary: Stella gets a call from Reed directly following the final episode of The Fall S3.
notes: this is one of only a handful of wips that I’m keeping up with and reading constantly. It’s written like goddamn poetry and I love an older ship with more baggage, because the emotions here run so much higher with their shared history and the tentative steps they’re trying to take. Also, given the source material, this is almost cathartic to read.  
Nothing to Lose*
by tielan (8013, complete, rated E)
fandom/ship: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Maria Hill/Steve Rogers
summary: “It’s one of the traditional rituals of manhood,” Natasha observes as they’re sparring. “Kill a man, fuck a woman.”
notes: listen. i know. okay? i know this seems like a crackship. but I love it SO MUCH and this author writes so well that I’ve been fully converted. ~something some of you have told me I do for you~ so go read this fic, and then read the others, and then fall in love and join me in this lonely ship. You won’t regret it.  
I’ll be writing while in isolation so if you have any Dinah/Helena or Stacie/Aubrey prompts, shoot ‘em my way!
and also hit me up for anything, as always. 
peace and love, and stay safe everybody!
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tortoisesshells · 4 years
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Turn 1x09 and 1x10, and that's a wrap on S1!
Oh, poor Bucephalus. ;_;
Gosh, this scene with Baker and Mary always breaks my heart. "You're the only one who really lives here now." / "There is love here, Mrs. Woodhull. I know because I know what it's absence feels like." Is there actually Baker fic out there? I feel strangely compelled. Anyway, #savebaker2k19
And I was all excited for Simcoe to have offed Judge Woodhull.
Go, Reverend Tallmadge, go!
Simcoe looks so disappointed that they actually have to have a trial for the rebels. You mean he can't just kill them? Intolerable. Injustice.
That's cold, Ben, not telling Anna that Selah's alive.
This cover of "Katie Cruel" is, and I do not say this lightly, perhaps the best use of music in Turn. Perhaps. Definitely my favorite. 
God help me, bumbling lawyer Abe Woodhull is such a fucking delight. And the fuck-you smirk from Reverend Tallmadge? A+.
OH SHIT she gasps, as though she hadn't seen Mary Woodhull find Abe's spy stash several times over by this point in her life.
And here we are at last! The Battle of Setauket!
... in Baker's bed??? I. Why. Also, where is Baker?
shit shit shit
That cut from Simcoe holding a pistol to Reverend Tallmadge's neck to Ben charging up the hill? Ow.
"And remind the men that no private property is to be destroyed." *gunshot*
BTW Anna your husband isn't really dead! Sorry, forgot to tell you?
"This conflict will be conducted in a civil manner!" Hewlett. My son. What do you think goes on in a war?
Selah's kind of a dick when he's angry, but I can't say I find it unreasonable that he'd be spitting mad about his property being seized?
Aww, Ben being so courteous to Mary.
"They that sow wickedness reap the same." Apparently righteous little-shit-ness is a Tallmadge family trait, which is pretty sexy of them tbh.
I'm... confused. Why does Abe want out right now? That's my complaint with this episode, I guess? Abe waffles twice and it seems - at least to me - to come from nowhere?
Ah, war criminal Simcoe.
God, that must have been cathartic for Hewlett.
And now Abe wants back in ... ?
Does Reverend Tallmadge know Samuel is dead? This feels like something that should have been discussed, but -?
Do I even need to start chanting "annlett" again, or is it just assumed?
Which is not to say that I don't feel for Selah, I suppose, who just saw Anna apparently choose her former fiance over him.
... I feel bad for Rogers, which is a strange state of affairs.
shit shit Shit SHIT SHIT SHIT
Listen I know now is not the time for my crack theories, but this confrontation is the only time Baker called Mary Woodhull "Mary" and not "Mrs. Woodhull" and that seems meaningful, all right?
Also who the hell gets in a shouting match about treasonous espionage activities with a redcoat officer literally! under! the! same! roof!
"I know how to clean up a mess." Most iconic line or most iconic line?
So that's all for season 1. I'm just as aggravated with Abe Woodhull as I recall, RIP Baker, gonna miss Selah Strong who disappears into an alternate dimension for four years, can't wait for Simcoe to lose the wig and Hewlett to get some USDA grade A character development!
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absolutely pissed at a few friends i know dont go on tumblr. 
dont know anyone to talk to bc im down to two friends in my life so unless i want to lose them too then i guess i just have to scream into the void of anonymous blogging. ive had an crazy pathological FOMO for almost as long as i can remember. ive felt like an old old man since i was 15. all i can think about every day of my goddamn life is the passing of time and how my youth has been wasted in circumstances/a time and place where theres no cool counterculture/art for art’s sake/anything meaningful and social. im 20 now and ive been feeling like my best years are behind me for years. college is a nightmare. ive lost every friend ive had except for two and im not even entirely sure why. nobody wants to do anything. there are old friends in town, im always surrounded by old friends, but none of them leave the house. i dont want to live in a world where the only people in my life are friends from high school who blow me off every night for their millionth round of league of legends and my genuinely insane alcoholic dad who just goes on crazy rants that make me want to kill hiim and then myself. this is a crazy way to live. i cant move out. even if i could, id be miserable having a landlord/being a wage slave again. my god, all i want is the barest amount of social interaction that doesnt make me want to die. i cant believe ive never been to a crazy party, that almost all the friends ive ever had never wanted to do anything but sit around and play video games.
but onto what’s bothering me today. met up with the two friends i have left. known them for a while but we didnt use to be as close. they’re the closest to “interesting” or countercultural/artistic friends ive ever had, but they see all of that as mostly behind them. im incredibly resentful of not being “let in” on some of the more crazy times they had when we were growing up, but i can usually manage those feelings. today, they were just reminiscing about this secret spot in the woods they used to have wild parties at during high school. the way they described it made it seem like every stupid youthful experience that i’ve ever wanted. huge gatherings getting broken up by cops, a small pond for diving in from a gigantic vandalized cliff. glow sticks tied in trees for when it gets dark. ive known about this place forever, and ive always asked everyone to show it to me. i asked for years and years and years and nobody took the fucking 2 hours out of their lives to satisfy my curiosity. now i just have to sit there and listen to them talk about it like its the greatest thing that ever happened to them, so many life-changing experiences. so many true and completely authentic celebrations of being young and irresponsible. everything i always wanted, i begged them over and over to show me when we were all younger and they never found the time. now, they just talk about it, and i sit there, visually super uncomfortable, i tell them im annoyed that they never got around to taking me there- they dont take criticism well at all. they try to be polite, but they just want me to quit complaining. after the most hyperbolic shit you can imagine coming out of their mouths about this glorious place that shaped their young lives, i immediately hear a “oh, you wouldnt have liked it anyway, logan” just to shut me up. i didnt say anything to them for the rest of the day.
I know how crazy I sound, I dont care. I know there’s something wrong with me in the way i glorify those kinds of memories, how badly i want times like that to come back, but they know that about me too, and it was almost as if that whole conversation was designed specifically to torture me. it was like they took my deep-rooted, extremely sensitive pathological FOMO and said absolutely every combination of words that would set it off. i felt like some kind of incredibly cruel joke was being played on me at certain points. they went on for like 20 minutes. i think im really getting sick of this friend group, but if idecide to take a break from them, then ill be down to 0 friends. 0 friends and my only human interaction will be with my insane, narcissistic, racist, violent dad, who’s just looking for an excuse to kick me out of the house anyway.
I hate the kind of person i am now. I hate having this much hate in me. I know that absolutely nothing in this environment is doing any favors for me mentally, but i cant think of anything else to do. I say that now, even as I type it, I dont feel any better. there is nothing cathartic about this. I can say it over and over again “I dont know what to do now” but that doesnt change the fact that when im done making this post, i will have to keep living this. i have no power to change my life. there are no new friends to be had. i dont know how to meet women beyond dating apps, and staying on them makes me miserable. i have no other relatives to complain about my dad to. i have no other friends i can complain about these two to. all i do is list my problems in my head with nothing productive to be done even after identifying my problems. I know that so much of it is “just me”, but my environment is forcing all the worst parts of me to come out over and over. im horribly, incredibly lonely, but i hate everyone i come to interact with. i dont know if theres any hope for it to ever be otherwise for me. i thought i would use isolation, especially during quarantine, to make some money and prove my worth to myself as an artist. ive had my stories published bought by a few magazines now and i still feel horribly empty. i feel too world weary to even imagine myself having a positive relationship/friendship with anyone ever again. im just so tired of every single person that i meet. im tired of everyone, and the most amount of pleasure afforded to me is sitcom reruns and fast food. the safest, most conformist material pleasures that there are. i hate my own melodrama, i hate that i care this much about small thinngs, i hate that theres something so deeply wrong with my psyche that im this crazed by the mention of a punk hangout spot that nobody ever showed me when i was younger, but i am going to live the rest of my life resenting that everyone around me only wanted to game, and nobody ever wanted to go to the shady/weird spots of the woods with me. how can i have missed my chance to childishly self indulgence, only to come out a whining adolescent still? how can i still be such a kid while missing what it felt like to be a kid? i dont know. ive always felt this way, but its only been especially bad for the last 3ish years. if it keeps going like this i dont know what ill do. again, no catharsis. again, there is nothing healing about my writing this. life sucks at every moment and then, somehow, i decide to keep living. im going to build a ted shed soon i think
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semi-anonyme · 4 years
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Let’s Talk About Alcohol
Gear up baby, this is a long and very personal post but I think it can help people and certainly it feels very cathartic to write.
Last night, I drank my last alcohol for a while, at least until my birthday in 2 months (more on that later). I’ve been declaring some intention to abstain from alcohol for a while now, but I think I’ve learned enough about myself during this past few months that this declaration now is clearer and more intentional. I’m going to write about it now because putting things into words is my therapeutic and ritualistic way of putting something behind me.
I think a big issue with substance abuse is being okay knowing that you have had legitimately good experiences that could not be replicated while sober. The part of me that strives to be mature and clearheaded wants to say:
every great experience I've had under the influence could have been replicated with a sober mind, I don’t need drugs
But the private voice in the back of my head says:
damn, those times were so fun. God do I really have to punish myself by going stone sober?
These two states, how I want to feel about my usage vs how I actually feel about my usage, create other feelings of shame and apprehension. I'm ashamed that I feel this way because I don't want the stigma of someone who is out of control but I also have no desire to stop because in my head the experience of the drug is irreplaceable.
An example I'm thinking of right now is going out to dance. When I'm a little faded on the dance floor, I usually have a big ass smile on my face and I vibe, man, I vibe. And there are times where I'm in the zone, I'll have people coming up to me -- including really beautiful women -- who just want to dance with me, know me.
As someone who spends so much time in solitude, it feels good and validating as a single man who also desires intimacy. There's something about knowing my energy was attractive that just feels good.
Same thing with sitting at a bar just drinking. I'd just be at a place having an IPA or a negroni after work, maybe some live jazz in the East Village. I'd enter with a lot on my mind and feel closed off. A drink or two in I'd start having a conversation with a woman sitting near me. Everything that flows out of me is just funny and real. The thoughts in my head I had deemed too shameful to reveal in my sober mind are expressed without inhibition. I am a poet. There's nothing to hide, this is real, and my inner life flows out of me as naturally as rivers flow downstream. I feel validated. Yes, I am a misunderstood martyr. Yes, I am a tragic anti-hero. Yes, these feelings I've been hiding are universal, why should I feel so ashamed? This is great. I love this.
I wake up the next day, maybe with a headache and a phone number or an instagram follow, but I know that I have no intention of actually knowing these people. Because who I was last night and who I am now are two different people. The shame is still there, it just got a little room to breathe.
Isn't that what we're always looking for? Just some room to breathe?
There's an overall theme in these two examples. On times I've been out drinking, there's this feeling of openness, human connection, and courage. In many ways, it's like wearing a mask and adopting a new identity. This character is full of joie de vivre, this character is an open book, this character is at peace with himself, this character is easily excitable, this character has an attractive energy and feels himself to be attractive. This character accepts his flaws, and knows that his humanity is precisely what makes him easy to connect with.
I remember one time I was talking to my therapist about drinking. I told her of all the times I had out, dancing, all the connections I made, all the memories I had. She looked at me and very non-judgmentally said, "it seems that alcohol has really given you a lot in your life". I agreed. She said, "you know, the alcohol is not really the problem - the alcohol is a proxy for something else, which is the relationship you have to yourself".
That kind of blew my mind. It made sense even initially, but over the past year it has become more concrete, and is the lens through which I view compulsive behavior. I’ll explain what she means more if you don’t quite get it.
If you notice how I laid out this "character" that I adopt, the space between who I am and this character is bridged -- or related -- by alcohol. In my daily life, I want to be more open, want to be quick to laugh, want to be quick witted and outside of my head more. I want to have that beautiful attractive energy I that I envy in some people. The alcohol gives me a lot of that -- but at a price.
I've talked with friends about their compulsive behaviors, read anonymous confessions on reddit, read about celebrities opening up about their addictions, and when you get into the why of when these people find themselves acting out their compulsive behavior, it really boils down to this:
I feel something that I do not want to feel -->    I do a thing to escape this feeling -->        that feeling goes away (but only temporarily)
A great example is when I listened to Kid Cudi on the Joe Rogan Experience talk about his addiction to cocaine. Note that this interview was in 2014 and he wasn't actually clean yet, so he was talking about a problem he was still privately battling. If you go to the 1:30 mark, he talks about his "trifecta" -- do cocaine before breakfast, drink a beer, smoke some weed. This allowed him to go out into the streets and interact with fans who would inevitably stop him and want to talk. Without it, he felt he couldn't.
What it did for me, it completely numbed me, I didn’t care about anything, I was a robot. But being so numb, it allowed me to meet my fans and be out in the streets, so in a twisted way, it did a positive thing for me and that’s why I didn’t see it as an issue
Like damn, today I went out in Soho and I was just high fiving fans and shit. It was the most amazing experience, something that I never get a chance to feel because I’m just like such a recluse and I was just weirded out when people recognized me and I just didn’t want to go anywhere
Kid Cudi needed his "trifecta" to get through that, but ultimately, a personality built off of drug use is obviously unsustainable. Again:
I feel something that I do not want to feel -->    I do a thing to escape this feeling -->        that feeling goes away (but only temporarily)
But that's the thing though. You don't know you have a problem until you're knee deep in it because the initial benefits of the drug use are so obviously good and pivotal to functioning.
Last year, I read this book The Lost Weekend -- it's about an alcoholic who goes on a five day bender that almost kills him. While I am not an alcoholic, it was amazing and terrifying to see how much of the character I identified with in his first two days of drinking. I wrote earlier how I now have a lens through which to view addiction ("alcohol is the proxy for your relationship to yourself") and this lens allowed me to see the main character, Don Birnam, for who he was and who he wanted to be and how he used alcohol to try and bridge the gap.
He was a failed writer who used alcohol to escape into fantasies of how his life should have turned out. There's this scene in day 2 of his bender where he's listening to a recording of a pianist and he talks about how his greatest fantasy is to have a piano recital at Carnegie Hall, a sold out show, and play beautiful piano pieces by his favorite composers. Everyone would adore him and his work.
While under the influence, he has these moments of clarity where he knows what he wants and feels committed to doing it. But as the booze wears off so does the satisfaction he has achieved in his fantasies, and he chases these fleeting feelings with more booze. After waking up, shaking, the only thing he can do to smother his feelings of shame and try to re-capture that sliver of optimism he felt is to drink even more. Therein lies the cycle of abuse.
This book was written in 1944 but it floors me how universally it portrays the mindset of drinking, and the slippery slope that the road takes. When it was published, a famous screenwriter named Herman Mankiewicz (an alcoholic who wrote Citizen Kane among many other great screenplays), having seen himself in the character of Don Birnam, attempted suicide. I was curious what more contemporary takeaways were. I can't find the source, but the one that stuck with me is when someone wrote, "The Lost Weekend made me realize that I thought that I was better than other people in my drinking, but in the end it's drinking, it's all the same".
Is it too embarrassing for me to admit that I totally get that?
I mentioned that substances are a poor substitute for the feelings we are attempting to bolster, and this is something I learned the hard way. I've had more than a few dozen conversations in my life with strangers that I felt were incredibly deep and meaningful, where I thought maybe, "oh this is someone I want to know in my everyday life". But of all those conversations, I think I may have had 3 people who are still in my life in any way today. And that's because the people you meet while out at bars are all wearing their own masks and good relationships aren't built on the basis of one strong connection alone.
Relationships, like all things worth building, take time.
I’m not an alcoholic, but maybe we should also get rid of that term?
There’s an article I read about a problem drinker who stopped calling herself an alcoholic and it struck a chord with me. I do not fit the profile of an alcoholic (and I guess the DSM 5 has revised the issue of problem drinking as Alcohol Use Disorder), but it has been obvious to me that something was not right with my alcohol use and I didn't feel completely in control of my actions. In fact, it was after waking up with a bad hangover on a Saturday last March that I decided to see a therapist.
I can't find it now, but there was an article I read when I was searching "how much is too much alcohol consumption". In this article, a psychologist said something along the lines of:
We used to give specific guidelines like 5 drinks is too much for a man, 3 drinks is too much for a woman. But there are people who drink more than these guidelines and live perfectly normal lives, and people who drink less and it's problematic. The amount you're drinking isn't as important as why you're drinking
I mentioned at the beginning of this entry that last night would be my last bits of alcohol for a while. If you had to guess, for me to make that type of declaration, how much do you think I drank?
The answer? (3) 16 oz beers over the course of about 5 hours. I like the taste of really boozy beers so these definitely weren't Tecates (the beers were 7.0%, 8.5% and 8% respectively) but still if you were to take that number and ask any random drinker whether that was too much they'd say, "what? c'mon, live a little".
This is the importance of self-knowledge though. Listen to yourself. Our intuition is pretty good at knowing when something is wrong.
So, what next?
I highly doubt I will be alcohol free for the rest of my life.
My self-awareness has always been a mixed bag of tricks but in identifying the root causes of my problem drinking (who I want to be vs who I actually am) plus my belief in my ability to change will allow me to get through this just fine.
I imagine being basically like Anthony Bourdain (RIP, sweet prince), who had a heroin addiction when he was younger but was able to travel and go drinking in his later years because he was no longer the person who did that.
I wrote a lot just now about this character that I don when I’m drinking who is open, friendly, confident, quick to laugh, sure of himself, easily excitable. These aren't just things I aspire to be but things I believe myself to be at my core, hidden underneath a layer of self-consciousness and useless thoughts that have no bearing in reality. When alcohol allows me to cut through that layer, it's not like I'm withdrawing from a bank account that's not mine; I'm reaching into a store of reserves that are in my name, just kind of hard to get to. I'm putting in the work now to streamline access to this core self, if this metaphor holds up
Earlier in the year, I mentioned my drinking guidelines as:
Vacations. Celebrations. Dates.
Vacations are a given, I never have a problem drinking while I'm on vacation. Celebrations mean big ones, basically, my birthday or my closest friends' birthdays or if my company gets acquired, or something. My plan is to do a deep dive for an extended period while working on my goals and designing the life I want to live. Like most people, drinking alcohol started as this social thing I did, which I wasn't doing unless I was with friends, and ended up becoming this thing that I used to avoid dealing with uncomfortable feelings I had about myself, feelings that only intensified the later I got into my 20s.
One reason why problematic drinking was able to go on for an extended amount of time -- hangovers and bad quality sleep and all -- was that I really didn't have anything else to look forward to. I could do my work fine so that was taken care of, but nothing actually excited me in my life. My goals in life became these checkboxes on a list of things that I thought might make me feel good but I was becoming less certain about that.
But after really examining my values in life, what I want to do, who I want to become, who I have to become in order to achieve these goals, I do have things that I'm excited to wake up and do now. And ultimately that's the only way to replace negative behaviors -- whether it's drinking, drugs, reckless sex, or procrastination. You have to identify why you do what you do and find suitable substitutes that give you the same benefits. Falling asleep at 3:30am after drinking 5 IPAs and watching 3.5 hours of K-Dramas doesn't have the same appeal to it like it did a couple of months ago.
Another reason why this has gone on pretty long is that when I think of myself in the future, I have an image in my head that constantly crosses my mind:
I'm living in New York or Paris or Tbilisi, a big city, you know. I have a beautiful apartment. It's Sunday at 2:00pm and I'm finishing up my first session of work and could use a break. I hit up a group of close friends and we decide to go to the neighborhood bar, have a beer, talk about what's happening in our lives, or do a post-game analysis of last night's shenanigans. We laugh, do that quality friend time, build memories and strengthen our connection.
But after babysitting a beer or two it is now the evening, and I want to make sure I have enough energy and focus -- either for a second session of work or just so I can relax at home just reading a book or watching a movie or spending quality time with my girlfriend/wife.
That sounds cute, right? Doesn't that sound beautiful?
Every time I’ve thought of abstaining from drinking, that image plays in my head and I think, “do I really need to stop? Can’t I just moderate? Like in that image?” Now I know from experience that asking yourself that question is a huge red flag.
Last week, I laid out some of my one year goals:
(1) to create a social media website (2) drop weight and attain a lean, muscular, model-esque physique (3) learn how to rap, develop a flow, and release some rap songs on SoundCloud
One thing I know about pursuing these things is that the process will become satisfying in and of itself. And when that satisfaction really sets in and the dopamine machine of my life is on autopilot, when I'm just really excited to wake up and work on programming this new feature before work, when I'm really excited to get my pull-ups in because my lats are starting to look really good and my body is just getting more tight and angular, when I'm excited to work on my rhymes because I have a few clever wordplays I want to drop, that's when I know, okay, I can have a couple of drinks with friends. Because by that point, the relationship with myself will have been repaired, and I'll have something to look forward to, and I won't look at myself as being this person who needs to avoid things or prop up my self-esteem, you know.
I have more to say (when do I not? I swear I can’t shut the fuck up) but I'll leave it at that for now.
I can’t believe you read this all.
I love you. I love you all.
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scottymccalled · 7 years
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Let’s start it off with the one and only, the canon pairing of a sad sk8er boi and his tiny baker: Jack Zimmerman/Eric “Bitty” Bittle!
Ice Crew Please!
THE FIC THAT CHANGED E V E R Y T H I N G u don’t even KNOW oh my god
u read this and u r like: “ice crew au…?? wut” but U GUYS. READ IT.
I AM. BEGGING U. its so fucking funny but also so fucking meaningful and abt CREATING A Fa mILY !!!! and LoVe!!!! and frieNDShIP!!!
p.s i don’t want to spoil it but if u read it message me and ill talk to u abt the part that made me cry like actual tears bc thank god for friendships and acknowledging that shit is hard
the messes of men
this was… in it’s own way.. a hard fic to read (which makes it the best fic to read! pain! i love it! help me!) it’s very very very beautifully written and i hold it very close to my heart….how it portrays jack by himself and how hard it must’ve been…it also manages to weave in how mental illness plays its own role, even once you get together with the person you’re pretty sure is it for you. somewhat painful but cathartic and achingly tender.
until it got the best of you
umm bitty has a big dick. that’s it.
BUT then there’s feelings! and angst! and misunderstanding! (the best type too! u know when one is like so crazily in love with the other and thinks its shockingly obvious but surprise, it’s not!) it’s just fantastic!
i never saw the signs
imagine a world where jack jumping over the snowbank, bringing bitty coffee, going on long walks classifies (in jack’s mind) as dating. so when bitty gets asked out, jack cannot believe the b e t r ay a l! we’re dating bitty! just read this and be happy :)
left the city, my family, my precinct
oh my goodness this fic.
jack accidentally sends bittle a dick pick.
:0  ;)  <3 ___ <3 = summary of the fic
mixing it up
this is just….so cute?!??!?! and funny?!??! and 1!!!!!
bitty is contestant at a baking tournament for the falconers where jack and tater are the judges. at least, thats where it starts off.
tater is fucking hILARIOUS this fic in general made me laugh a lot.
strawberry
if u about that dom/sub life well…….just know that eric pins jacks hands to the bed and there’s v intense blushing that boi turns red like a tomato and i live 4 it.
eric is a tad too southern for me but it’s the only thing this fic doesn’t do perfectly :))))
something like this
considering how popular this fic is it actually sat open in a tab for a looong loooooong time just bc…well… it’s 285,748 words. im an all or nothing girl as in i once read the entire maze runner trilogy in one night so i had to find the right time
first of all: angst. second of all: angst. third of all: ….. u guessed it… angst. BUT don’t worry, for every drop of angst there’s a metro-fucking-ton of smut and sweetness :)))) ;))) what this fic does brilliantly is create an OMC that is at the forefront of the story and do it seamlessly. this is a pretty iconic fic and tbh im definitely not one for fics longer than 100k but this was a fuckin’ beaut man
rake the springtime across your sheets
oh god this was P A I N F U L but in a very beautiful way??? (that’s how u know the writing was siCK) ambiguously happy ending but tbh in the end this fic is really just abt the unspoken quiet truth of being in love, of loving, of being human just lke Fffffffuck me up
Phone, Please!
listen. i’m not a fluff person. idk i get bored. BUT. BUUUUUT. BUT. this fic.
AMAZING. this fic is all about the details and the little moments that make Bitty and Jack  ~*BittyandJack*~
Bonus favorite line: “Thank god there are pancakes to serve. Pancakes are also very nice, and something he can actually have.”
Winter Clothes
Chowder POV so this is both hiLARIOUS and surprisingly touching. Jack and Bitty help Chowder buy clothes for New England winter. As a person living in New England, I approve this message.
WIPS: *Hate That I Love You plays in the background*
medic, please!
so if u ever played world of warcraft u r gonna love it and if you’ve never played world of warcraft u r gonna love it
this fic is just SO CREATIVE?!?!! like the format of it is B O M B. its just. so good. oh ym god.
(also the name is “medic please!” get it? cuz eric’s a medic in the game.? and check..PLEASE! ugh I’m a nerd 4 this pic
Fainting Psychics and Pessimistic Demonologists
ghostbusters au except not bc copyright
at first i was like…ghost hunters au?? rlly? but now I’m like GHOST HUNTERS AU? B R I L L I A N T.
characters are on point, its funny (an actual line of the fic “Jack sat down at his computer, pulled open a tab, and googled “How to encourage a teammate”. lmao what a mess)
but also theres some mystery and intrigue and suspense and in general this is a Good.
baking is punk as fuck
this is another AU that i was like…punk band u ….rlly? but then i was like PUNK BAND AU FUCK YEAH im a sucker for asshole Jack. i’m not even into punk?? but im into this fic U ___ U
This Don’t Even Feel Like Falling
filed under “praise kink mmmm”
honestly? porn..? “Bitty is the one to tie Jack’s hands for Hazeapalooza; afterward, he ties Jack’s hands for their own private enjoyment. “ like?? I’m not sorry.
but also not established relationship more like fwb but u know and i know and ngozi knows that ain’t the game we’re playing here
around the green and blue
not usually a big fan of soulmate aus but what i love about this fic is the pacing and even tho soulmate aus where seeing your soulmate = seeing color for the first time isn’t totally new this felt super fresh and original!
shine for you
aw MAN this gave me the feeeeeels. established relationship but jack is not out, it’s a bit angsty but the jack perspective is just so gooood
EXTRA: It all started with a big Russian hockey player calling a small cat-loving hockey player a rat. You either h8 it or u luv it. In my case, I Love it, capital L, so enjoy: Alexei “Tater” Mashkov/Kent Parson
careful the tale you tell
Kent has been telling himself a story, ever since the Q. It’s the epic story of Parse and Zimms, and he’s in love with it. // this fic is specifically meant for patater newbies and this fic does an amazing job of showing why kent and alexei just make sense. its honestly a Blessing.
kick on the starter
lmao im gonna be 90 years old and still reccing Febricant’s fics…for real when i saw they wrote patater i was like…no..im dreaMing…or im dead? is . is heaven?? rlly unique approach to how she gets them together and gr8 build up :)))) Bless Febricant
i need to wake up, i need me some love…
honestly? shameless fluff. established relationship (they’re ENGAGED FOR GOD’S SAKE) short but Good
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hakureiryuu · 7 years
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SENSE8 SEASON 2 ALRIGHT ALRIGHT
i am growing just a tiiiiiiiny bit frustrated with the way kala and wolfgang keep flipflopping on their feelings about each other. i get annoyed when shows milk some “will they or won’t they” trope for all it’s worth, but so far it’s still well within my tolerance. and that’s largely because of the characters and the performances their actors give them.
i mean, they go back and forth not only to the audience, but to each other. wolfgang falls in love with kala but pushes her firmly away at the end of s1, then can’t keep himself from commenting “we’re perfect for each other” in the christmas special. he tells kala she deserves better than him, then scolds her for denying her feelings towards him. he fools around in every direction, ostensibly to distract himself (or to allow the writers to assert his masculinity idk), but gives no indication of how much he misses kala until he tells her. 
i’m not saying the tension isn’t there. i just felt like it could have been much more pronounced, for how loudly the fandom raves about it.
kala, meanwhile, flipflops much more openly, and i’ve come to understand it’s largely due to her upbringing. what she wants clashing with what she feels is right is a story that’s been told since the beginning of time. it may feel a bit tired here, but kala’s actress is phenomenal and plays every conflict across her face in perfect detail.
moreover, kala is, in essence, the “rebellious princess” in the middle of a (vastly showed down and picked apart) process of rejecting her life of ease and privilege in favor of something she views as more meaningful and fulfilling. leaving a place of comfort and walking into the unknown is a scary thing, and that’s probably why she married rajan in the first place, why she stayed with him despite every chance he gave her to back out. i understand it now, and it’s interesting to watch her distance herself from her privileged life in baby steps. 
not to mention it’s really fucking gratifying that the only reason all this flipflopping started was because they wouldn’t communicate with each other about their feelings in the first place. like, THAT i’ll buy. normally i hate miscommunication tropes but this one managed to nail it as something truly touching. i just wish it was brought up sooner, before they finally said it to each other.
also i was incredibly pleased that my wish from the christmas episode was fulfilled - kala was/is instrumental in will’s treatment and recovery, as she should be. ^_^
I AM UNREASONABLY EXCITED ABOUT DANIELLA’S RELATIONSHIP WITH LITO AND HERNANDO I MEAN I KNOW PEOPLE WILL FEEL LIKE IT “TAKES AWAY” FROM THE GAY REPRESENTATION SOMEHOW AND I KNOW SHE’S A BIT FETISHIZING OF THEM (dammit dani stop taking pictures of gay dudes haven’t you learned your lesson yet?) BUT I’M JUST SO THRILLED FOR THIS WEIRD MIXTURE OF POLYAMORY AND QUEERPLATONIC IT IS MY LIFEBLOOD AND I NEED MORE OF IT
they call each other family. oh my god.
i am almost as excited for a black bi/pansexual woman dating a man. zakia is gr8 okay? she needs more development but she is gr8. NO BI ERASURE TO BE SEEN HERE NOPE
(now if only they could lay off the ace erasure siiiiigh)
how come they couldn’t do e-death on will too? he has even less to lose by it than nomi does at this point. or was that just too big of a deus ex machina? sun would also benefit but her incarceration was way too public for it to be forgotten just by erasing the data, so that one i get at least.
the idea of nomi being indebted to fucking Anonymous is hilarious to me for some reason. can’t wait to see where that plot thread leads XD
riley continues to be my fucking role model. so cautious and clever and sure-footed. most of all, she’s healed. she wandered for years without a reason to live, a hurricane of depression and self-destruction. now that she’s a sensate, she has a purpose again. and yeah, there’s elements of “rescue romance” in there, but damn if i don’t have a weakness for that trope. plus she goes from being rescued right into doing the rescuing, so i think that redeems the trope by a lot.
i’m glad they went a tiny bit further into the repercussions of being nigh-constantly high on heroin for almost a year, though it wasn’t nearly enough imo. i mean this isn’t a show about drug addiction so i forgive them, but i still think will’s (almost) perfect recovery from all that bullshit was very, very contrived. 
how did will’s dad recognize him through riley? i’d be willing to buy some bullshit explanation of heightened global consciousness when approaching death, but they didn’t even mention it. i would have been sadder if will hadn’t been able to say anything at all, but now i’m just confused. 
i still don’t really like will’s dad. half the scenes of him being happy or laughing in that montage were of him laughing at will’s expense.
poor will though. he’s kind of having his entire life fall apart around him. i wonder if he’ll fall to pieces too, later down the line.
sometimes i forget that all these characters are meant to be the exact same age as me (28). it’s easy to because all the actors look something like late-thirties, and most of them had stable employment nice homes before all this happened. then will says something #relatable like “our generation doesn’t get to have nice things” and i go “oh yeah”.
so like i appreciate a lot that white savior narratives were brought up in capheus’s storyline but i give side-eye at the fact that capheus disagreed with this concept. however it was done quite well (and couched within the epic “who am i” god i love these overlays) because capheus more or less admitted he could be wrong in his opinion, AND that it was just his opinion. not to mention that zakia is portrayed as very intelligent and reasonable in her own right, and entitled to her feelings on the subject as well. i hope so much we see more speeches from her in the future, because i want to hear her thoughts on PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING.
i’m not sure how i feel about capheus running for elected office. it seems so... out of place? i mean i know his character has to go somewhere, but this seems an odd direction to move in. i mean some form of governor or congressman equivalent is one thing, but amondi said something about him being president? does that mean of the entire country?? 
(i have no idea how kenyan government is run.)
of course it does give an excellent platform for the inspiring speeches and amazing one-liners on which this show runs, so i’ll allow it and see where this whole thing goes. besides, even though the plot is strange, they’re at least playing it smart. capheus already had a lot of notoriety, and it didn’t take much more than his charm to go from notorious to inspiring.
but then he took an impromptu flight to paris right in the middle of his campaign so tHAT’S NOT GONNA LOOK WEIRD AT ALL.
side note: where did he get the money for the flight? i mean i know his bus business is booming and he and his mom live in a slightly bigger hovel now, but that doesn’t mean he has hundreds in savings to blow on a flight. he’s still delighted by a coffee-maker for goodness sake (my precious shining innocent happy child).
or it could be money from his party for his campaign. in which case EVEN MORE TOTALLY NOT SUSPICIOUS.
that superpower guy, whatever his name is? i goddamn love his accent okay? i could listen to him talk all day.
capheus finding out kala’s company was likely responsible for his mother’s poor health in s1 was both heartbreaking and very cathartic. rajan had zero self-awareness there; like he said, it’s just one of those things you don’t even think about until someone points out how disgusting it is.
as good a guy as he otherwise is, i’m a little suspicious of his apology. he’s been pretty dismissive toward kala in the workplace, and i’m wondering if he’s just paying lip service to her.
and then, of course, there’s ajay. i get the creeps whenever he walks in, and i know that’s intentional. THAT BOX TERRIFIED ME FOR LIKE 2 WHOLE EPISODES UNTIL IT WAS OPENED I LEGIT THOUGHT IT WAS A BOMB.
wolfgang’s gang-kingdom plot was... just as incomprehensible/uninteresting to me as it was during the christmas special? and even then i felt like it was a highly abridged version of what they were initially going for. that giant fight on new year’s led to nothing. wolfgang and felix hang out with a creepily generous dude who Expects Things in return for his generosity. wolfgang knows this but only rejects him outright when he is asked outright, keeping whatever “good faith” tokens that came his way like an idiot. and let’s be fair, i’d be the first to do that sort of thing - accept bribes to Do A Thing, only to Not Do The Thing and exploit the doubletalk that surrounds such interactions to deny accountability. BUT. NOT. WHEN. DEALING. WITH. MURDERERS.
 jesus wolfgang do you have a death wi- oh wait.
lila is... flat? as a character? she’s a sexpot and that’s kind of all. i’m a little disappointed that she’s so underdeveloped but maybe we’ll get more of her in the future. 
puck is vile and i hate him. i almost hate that he rescued sun but at least she got to break his toes. i mean does he GENUINELY BELIEVE half the shit he says or does he just enjoy making women uncomfortable? i’m not sure which is worse.
but when he said he’s personally connected to over 300 sensates that kind of blew my mind. that’s a hell of a lot of potential for our cluster, y’know? the possibilities are dazzling.
THE ARCHIPELAGO IS SO FUCKING COOL LIKE THAT ENTIRE VISUAL SEQUENCE WAS PHENOMENAL AS USUAL BUT ALSO THE CONCEPT IS JUST REALLY FUCKING GR8
there was a fat sensate woman sitting in a library among the archipelago and i felt represented. ^_^
i thought jonas’s death felt a little abrupt, a little unnecessary, even though it was masterfully done. turns out i was right, in the worst way: they broke him, and turned him. 
he was always a little shady but now he’s gone full dark side. what’s the cluster gonna do with him prisoner? who knows. i’m excited about it though!
wolfgang’s abduction is a magnificent jumping off point into much wider plots than the relatively narrow-focused ones we’ve seen thus far. however, i must point out that it felt sadly rushed. i mean, the same thing happened to riley and it took nearly two episodes to talk about, and only will was physically present for it. when it happened to wolfgang THE ENTIRE GANG jumped on a flight to help out and yet it took a mere third of an episode to pull off a much more complex plan from start to finish - “finish” being a loosely used term, since they haven’t even officially rescued the dude yet. i’m just saying it went by much too quickly to feel like more than a cliffhanger tacked on as an afterthought.
not to mention i wanted a lot more fanfare in the entire cluster physically coming together for a cause. it should have been an entire 12th episode imo, since season 2 only had 11? (i mean one of said eps was double-length so it’s the same runtime as s1 in terms of minutes, but still.) what did capheus say to his mother before he left? what did lito say to dani and hernando? THESE ARE SCENES THAT SHOULD HAVE TAKEN UP SCREENTIME, DAMMIT.
also how did will et al infiltrate the facility to surprise whispers in the first place? i need to understand the details of what the hell just went down.
AMANITA AND NOMI ARE GETTING MARRIEDDDDDDD
flawless execution. i had been wondering about amanita’s thoughts on all this nonsense and how she fit into it since nearly the beginning, and having it addressed all through s2 was very satisfying. 
tbh i kinda thought lito was gonna propose to hernando at sao paolo but realized after the fact that he just wasn’t, and still isn’t, in the proper headspace for that. he’s just barely coming to terms with being openly gay; that’s nowhere near ready to be openly gay married. he’s getting there though :)
a loose end that i thought would be wrapped up this season but it looks like we’re going to have to wait for: todd. he’s alive and in prison, and he is either a member of angelica’s cluster or one of her earlier children. either way he’s probably chock-full of plot-related information and the sensates need to grill him. since his objections to being a sensate appeared to be largely religiously motivated, i recommend kala for the job.
angelica zombified raoul and used him to burn down her cabin in order to hide her research from whispers while maintaining deniability. that is... so firmly gray with such a wildly disparate set of motivations that i’m a little astounded. it’s horrifying. it was necessary in her eyes. she did something “good” and “right” through some truly viciously evil means. she was ruthless enough to burn an innocent man to death but compassionate enough to comfort him and let him hear his father’s voice before he died, even as she was controlling his mind against his will. i can’t reconcile these things, and it’s AMAZING that the writers managed this kind of event. 
meeting sarah petrel’s family was fascinating, and i have to wonder how so many people “knew” her. will is obvious. whispers and angelica i can understand. but when did jonas or raoul meet her? is sarah actually way more significant than we thought? is she more than just will’s sad backstory? :O
tell me more about ruth el-sadawi.
tell me more about other clusters in hiding, and their system of organization.
tell me more about the mechanics of sensate abilities in general, specifically the process of giving birth.
tell me more about BPO’s early days, how it changed, who was responsible for those changes. tell me how whispers became part of it.
now that whispers knows who kala is, will he go after her family? how will this impact rajan’s investigation?
will sun need to protect detective mun until he recovers and can testify?
why did the woman riley met commit suicide shortly after their meeting? what part in her decision to kill herself did jonas play?
will kala’s blockers work as they should?
give me more of riley’s dad singing songs to make his daughter smile.
give me more of amanita being a huge book nerd and developing her newfound interest in parapsychology.
give me more of daniella confronting and gradually recovering from her abusive childhood. 
give me more of capheus’s mother being an art’s teacher!
give me more of sun’s prison friends! (i have a bit of a crush on soo-jin)
give me more of whispers being calmly, terrifyingly sadistic.
will we ever see yrsa again?
will we ever find out what happened to capheus’s baby sister?
all the tiny little continuity nods and references to season 1 made me giddy.
BRING SEASON 3 THE FUCK ON MY DUDES!!
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9 and 37?
9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?
Hmm at this point I’d have to say Satisfaction. Any smut fic or fic involving smut is always challenging to write, because you (or at least I) want to keep it fresh and interesting and get across something more than just the sex, without resorting to being clinical. But this one was especially tricky because it was just as much a character study and a fucking essay to anyone who thinks sub!Catra could ever be a thing as it was a smut fic, and because the content was very delicate and I needed to make sure it was getting across exactly what I was trying to say and nothing more, nothing less. So there was the usual slog of writing smut plus the paralysis of feeling like it needed to be perfect, and frustration when I couldn’t seem to get it right. That’s quite the combination, I’ll tell ya.
37. Talk about your current wips.
Oh, boy! I love this question. :D
In no particular order…
Demons (She-Ra, Catradora): This fic is basically therapy for myself and Catradora, and anyone in the fandom willing to brave the trigger warnings. It’s been taxing but extremely cathartic to write, as it’s essentially about what it’s like to be a survivor of child abuse. This fic really only has a plot to allow me to address whatever issues I want to, and it was originally supposed to be, like, 6 chapters. We’re going on 23 now, whoops! I really do love this fic, though, with my whole heart. It’s probably the most raw, profound, meaningful piece of writing I’ve ever done. I love She-Ra for how openly it deals with the long-term effects of abuse, and I can only hope I’ve done the canon story and characters justice.
Loyalty (Hunger Games, Joniss): This is my longest fic, both in terms of words (333k) and how long I’ve been working on it (5 years). Believe it or not, I am still plugging away. And actually, in some ways this might be the most meaningful piece I’ve written. It involves a lot of the same themes as Demons, like abuse and implied neurodivergence, but it’s all in the background, as this is much more of a plot-heavy fic. But a lot of really heavy subjects are addressed, and I like to think they’re examined in a deep but delicate way. This fic is full of twists and the character development is pretty damn next level, and the ship dynamics are super fun, as it always is when I write Johanna x Katniss. Honestly I love this fic to bits and I wish I had more time to work on it, but She-Ra is my current main special interest, so updates have been sparse lately. However, there is a new chapter coming soon, so go get yourself caught up! ;)
But I’m a Lumberjack (Hunger Games, Joniss): Oh boy, speaking of fun Hunger Games fics! This is my THG x But I’m a Cheerleader crossover, and it’s stupid but also really sweet? Man, I miss this fic. Another one I really want to get back to. I reversed the intuitive casting by making Johanna the oblivious lesbian and Katniss the asshole who totally knows she is gay, so they are both very snarky in this fic and it is hilarious. I mean, it’s especially funny for people who have watched BIAC, but yeah. It also has some heavy themes, like homophobia and child abuse (which seems to show up in basically all my fics? wonder why that could be), but all in all it’s a pretty fun, light-hearted fic.
Live With It (She-Ra, Catradora [past]): This is neither fun nor light-hearted. This story only exists because @jaelav3​ absolutely trampled my heart with her one shot where Adora had killed Catra in battle years prior and was still grieving hardcore. I continued the story and made it hurt even more, but only so we could get to a more cathartic, tragic but hopeful ending. I promise, we will get there! Sorry, these first few chapters have been rough but I promise it will get better. Adora x Therapy, y’all!
Ice (The 100, Echo [gen]): This was my Echo backstory fic that I wrote as a companion piece to my multi-chapter Becho fic Building Trust. It’s fallen by the wayside a bit considering Echo’s actual backstory has since been revealed, but I reread it recently with the intention of leaving it unfinished but realized I really loved writing about the Ice Nation politics and potential relationships between its characters that were largely left unexplored. The last couple chapters are both over half-written so at some point I will finish it, god damnit. Oh btw it is also SUPER full of emotional and physical child abuse and it is just not a fun time, so it’s not a fic I ever really recommend to people. I kinda wrote this one for myself because I find the Ice Nation (and Echo in particular) fascinating.
Enough (Hunger Games, Joniss): This fic is another one that I’d classify as dumb but loveable. It’s my only un-betaed THG fic, so I feel like the quality is slightly lower than the others but it really just started as a fun little side project. Back when @jonissheadcanons-archive was active, there was a theme for a while of modern au ideas where Johanna was Katniss’s babysitter when they were kids. Someone else drew some adorable artwork of Johanna teaching Katniss to walk, and the heavens opened and this fic rained down on us. It’s actually pretty angsty, since there’s a lot of babygay pining and some really painful parallels to canon (for instance, Katniss’s dad dies and mom goes nonfunctional and they end up in foster care), but there’s also a lot of goofy jokes, and nostalgia for those of us who remember the 1990′s.
Oh wow do I only have 6 WIPs? Damn, it felt like more.
40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers
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allmymisters · 5 years
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For the Love of 2018 - GOOOOOAAAAALS!
I didn’t get the black stallion I was hoping for this year. I tend to have high expectations I suppose. 2018 had its splashes of cherished moments in addition to downright depressing hidden gems. The sudden losses of very dear friends for one. Those were blows I was not prepared to experience and, screw you 2018 for giving me those moments. I’m no stranger to tragedy (have you read this site?), but this year’s tragedies were a vast array of empathetic reassurances that there is no explanation for the sheer magnitude of such occurrences nor through any fault of their own. It just sucks to have to go through it and you’ll be struggling with it for the rest of your life.
I think everyone was stressed the hell out this year. Frustrated and angry, there were a lot of opinions and entertaining thoughts on where we should or should not be, as a society and as a nation. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the weight of the world as I did this year. I didn’t like people before, but 2018 proved how much my contradictory persona could take. Humanity is a raw and evil sort of thing letting way to bursts of sunlight at any given moment which results in confusion and downright rage. I was deleted, blocked, called names, and asked to duel a few times this year, all for, having a valid belief that my truth is not your truth. On the other hand I learned some people I’ve known a majority of my life have some really skewed views of what they support. Speaking of ending relationships…my friend of 15+ years decided that she could no longer remain in our relationship and instead broke up with me on the grounds of…This is unknown at this time as to why our oh so dear friendship came to an abrupt end and was not worthy of any explanation whatsoever. Marriage, babies, narcissism…you know, the silent killers of friendships. It seems pointless to say, but it did open my eyes to how I expect to be treated in life. So, first there was the lack of closure that came with my ex husband and now once again, another uncommunicated shut down. Hmmm…is it me? Did I not give enough? I give too much, more than I should in a lot of instances. People are just weird.
For the first time in a really, wait, ever, I felt like I accomplished something. This little project being one of them. Nobody cares what I write or do or say or feel. I know this. The difference is, I don’t care anymore, it is my therapy, my cathartic medium to deal with my life that will hopefully help others in a relatable and true sense. It truly is the first time I’ve consistently followed through with my own idea, not someone else’s, but mine. What made my year was receiving some very heartfelt thanks yous and that was enough for me. To make another feel better or to move someone with words, that is my art. For the first time in my life I am proud. All the work I’ve done this year, I am proud of, and worked hard for, and it felt like I had just finished a marathon. A marathon I’ve been running for 45 years. What a fulfilling thing, right?
I promise to get to the good parts soon, but not yet, I have to finish through the hard layer first before I get to the chewy center where rainbows shoot out of the asses of babes. Reaching 45 was difficult. Harder than anything I’ve ever done, and with that came a dreadful revelation. I came to terms that my physical self is no longer twe—, I mean, thirty-five. No longer do I feel I can climb fences, dance the night away or have a slap boxing match without being completely winded in ten minutes. The white hair that has accompanied my raven locks is disorienting, and the extra pounds which make me cry on most days because what women doesn’t want to look hot in her skinny jeans, but instead replaces her lacy unmentionables with…COTTON!? It has affected me profoundly. One thing they don’t tell us women getting older is how terrifying it is, physically and mentally. How we don’t feel attractive, how I cannot look anyone remotely attractive in the eye, and how the thought of donning a bathing suit would suddenly feel absolutely horrifying. They don’t tell you of the anxiety, the insomnia, and what the discovery of cellulite does to a woman or that missing a period will make you feel absolutely regretful and sad. How forgetful one becomes as she frantically tries to locate the cell phone she is currently speaking on or wishing for her tiny boobs of 34Bs again instead of this, what is this blob coming out of the side of my bra. I know, I really shouldn’t care. I have a mister who loves me as I am, but ladies as we know they can tell us we are gorgeous all day long but in the end it only matters is we feel uncomfortable, and I know, boo hoo right? Get over it and be stronger right? I will eventually, I just don’t like it.
I suffered my first panic attack and god forbid, my last. I had no idea. For all those who suffer this on a constant basis, I am so very sorry. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced, to be in small out of town diner, while you sit across from your loved one. A regular morning waiting for a server who doesn’t come while you are reminiscing about the spectacular night you’ve had together, and then for no reason at all, it happens. As I sat there with cold hands and irregular heart beating, body feeling disconnected, I imagined how awful it is that I, ME, was going to die in this amazingly terrible diner amongst strangers. For about 30 minutes, I concluded that it would be as easy as that and I looked at him and thought, at least I was loved and had loved again.
It’s a odd spectrum of emotions when you lie in bed at night and what used to be something so easily attainable becomes a labyrinth of questionable moments in life.
Why did I have chocolate tonight? Why did that person not text me back? Am I ever in my life going to fucking be appreciated for the work I do? Why am I so very broke and why did I just spend $14.99 on an Adobe app? Does he still find me attractive? Why didn’t I have children? Was i supposed to have children? Do people think I’m stupid? Did I go over 1200 calories today? How could there have not been one single carton of 2% milk!? Shit, I forgot to buy saline solution again! I hope my parents don’t die soon, what if I die before them…
And it goes on and on throughout the night. So yeah, lots of things occurred in 2018 I’ve never experienced before. Thanks for the new adventures! I found very little to say in 2018, not in person at least. I’ve embraced my Aquarian aloofness this year. I disconnected like I’ve never done before and found myself in very little meaningful conversations in the outside world. It baffled me really. For the first time in my life verbal exchanges were challenging. I just couldn’t connect. It was as though someone had taken my speech and turned it into a whole new non-language causing me tongue tied instances of pure lack of eloquence and articulation…embarrassing. Are you wondering about the good parts?
2018 was transitional to say the least. We got out of a very small apartment with a devil of a landlady into a very beautiful house in a new neighborhood. I really fell in love with being home. This place feels like a haven and despite still looking at unpacked boxes and unfinished furniture, it has become a place to relax and entertain at my whim. I am now the proud owner of a fire pit and a grill! Who knew such small domestic luxuries could bring about such sweet comfort! I tried to buy a house this year which didn’t pan out as I wanted it, but sometimes there’s a bigger plan. In turn, I sold my first house as a real estate agent this year which brought me a feeling of accomplishment. I can do it! Yes I can! A motto that held little weight before. Small, but an endeavor I never thought I’d ever add to my repertoire. I often wonder if I’m just real comfortable doing then jobs at once.
Karaoke. The activity that I refused to do in any public place became commonplace in 2018. Somehow singing Concrete Blonde and Leslie Gore brought a silent release for me and just the sheer gathering of friends in these instances made me genuinely joyous. The fact that people wanted to spend time with me, strange as that may be, was the one thing I felt humanly connected to. I felt strangely isolated most days. I attended a wedding, reconnected with family, and watched a lot of soccer. Simple joys. I was involved in a study about race and gender, wrote about people I admire, and received notes of praise. I read stories at night, saw tons of music, and dreamt of distant lands. I ate delicious meals, watched tons of film, and dove into photography. I wrote words. I said goodbye to the past. I made amends. I attoned and forgave. I laughed harder than ever and I cried seldomly. I felt loved. It went quickly and I suppose as we age it goes by at lightning speed. I long for the days of long summers and spontaneous trips.
What will 2019 be? I can only hope for less death, less loneliness, less heaviness. I am wondering if I too have become nothing but 1s and 0s and perfectly angled moments. Who will reach out, if anyone, to say hello that isn’t summed up in an abbreviated expression. Will the “We need to hang out” become an actual instance of beverages and exchanges of laughable tales or will it be the continuous cycle of empty efforts spread across another year. There are no resolutions for me, there is just a continuous wanting to better the briefness of existence. I want to read more books, see more music, cry at art, take better pictures, write more stories, take more trips, share more experiences, find inspiration, and motivate to healthier habits and less sour cream and onion chips at midnight. I want to shoot bows and arrows, play more pool, and swim in the ocean. I want to see my nieces and nephew, take my mom someplace new, and visit my dad. We always have such high hopes in the beginning don’t we? The ending of one cycle, packed with memories in our virtual treasure box, and the rebirth and renewal of new ones. Isn’t that the beauty of it all? What will this new skin look like? What stories will I tell next…
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