"Have you've heard that the yashiro comisioner cheats on his girlfriend publicly even she knows ! " a man said.
"Yeah I've heard of it wow the comisioner girlfriend must look horrible! " you heard the two man spoke the "girlfriend" of the comisioner was you...
You know for a fact he cheats on you but you keep being loyal to him no matter what...you can't help it once you Love someone you keep on caring for them no matter what.
Everyday there will be a gorgeous women going to ayato's cambers and having "love" with him while you on the other hand never kissed or even hugged. It's not that your ugly or anything but he never liked you when you confesed to him he just sees you as a new toy to play.
Until one day you Were on a walk in the forest you met ayato and his "darling" you saw them they saw you ayato gave you a cold look as cold as snechnaya.
And then you heard him say...
"Kill her... Now! "
Those were the last words you hear ayato telling the Shumatsuban to kill you.
And at that very moment your throat you were coughing blood you weren't given a fast death that won't hurt you Were given the painful one after the Shumatsuban left they kissed a tear left your eye.
"Sometimes people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes huh... Ayato. "
You remembered a memory the day you confess to him the day you became his toy.
"I like you.. You're really amazing i adore you so please would you be so kind to fall in love with me?.."
When he accepted it you Were happy but....his smile wasn't a smile of happiness it was a smirk.
A person i know once said
"People who loves you hides it and for people who doesn't they play pretends and create beautiful lies. "
Telling a lie is simple and easy but telling a truth is hard.
People hide under their masks you never know how they really are inside.
People who looks like an optimist may be sufferring.
People who say they are sufferring may be faking.
But no matter who we are we all have at least said more than one lie to just to please others.
Hey. May I suggest listening to Would You Be So Kind by Dodie with just about any Sanders Sides ship involving Roman (especially Prinxiety or Logince) in mind? Just. For enrichment in your enclosure.
Yesss I love this song! And I love it for Roman! Roman ships with Logan or Virgil, or even Janus when they are the more reluctant side to show affection, that song really fits them. Patton too, any Patton ship!
I actually have this song on my Logicality playlist! I’ve had it on there for quite a few years, I love it so much :D
“The Tagalog Word ‘Kilig’,” Talk Tagalog / image of couple embracing in sunset / “Would You Be So Kind?”, dodie / “American Sign Language: ‘fall in love’,” Lifeprint / image of couple leaping for balloons in field / “Dandelions,” Ruth B / image of couple walking huddled with each other + affectionate head touches / “I Think He Knows,” Taylor Swift
Would You be so Kind (Dodie) x I Do Adore (Mindy Gledhill) is a mutual pining ship, fight me
Kind is trying to get closer/gives gifts/a lot of affection/probably an extravert/really on the outside, talks a lot, obvious about their feelings ("would you be so kind as to fall in love with me")
Adore is a hopeless romantic/pining from afar/oblivious/probably an introvert/keeps their feelings to themselves (everything you do, I do adore)
Want to ask ya today was there any piece of art that currently living rent free in your head? Like you just love it so much you can't stop thinking about it and it puts you in a very good mood? :3
This song that @fumblrina introduced me to is uncharacteristically cute and has been bouncing around in my feel-good brainspace again for days
I’m actually LOVING how Rick Riordan, and the other writers of the show, took his initial concept of a Percabeth rivalry fueled by that of their parents and kind of turned it on its head?
Now, instead of Annabeth being wary of Percy because he’s a son of Poseidon, he’s wary of her because she made a callous impression on him. They get off to a rocky start even before finding out who Percy’s father is, and when they finally do, Annabeth doesn’t care. Instead of them fighting because of who their parents are, they’re fighting over their own opposed worldviews.
Then, instead of them arguing over which of the gods is cooler and who was right in the story of Medusa, they realize that, just like Medusa, Annabeth is a victim of her mother and that, unlike Medusa, she is a far kinder and stronger person, unwilling to repeat the cycle of hurt. They realize that, like his father, Percy often acts without considering potential consequences and that, unlike his father, he is a far kinder and stronger person, willing to step up for someone he wronged and whom he cares about.
Instead of Percy and Annabeth’s rivalry being focused on that of their parents, it’s focused on who they are, themselves. But the path to friendship is still the same: a realization that they have each other’s backs, no matter what, because they’re not their parents after all.
at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.