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due to personal reasons i’ll be

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When I was 19 or 20, I sewed myself a wool dress for medieval re-enactments. I hated it almost as soon as I put it on. The bodice was cut wrong; the lacing was uneven; the colour was garish; the front closure was historically inaccurate; the embellishments were sewn on with terrible thread. Wearing it, I was constantly aware of its myriad flaws.

Then in my twenties I hit my adult metabolism and didn’t fit into any of my old clothes anymore. I gave my old dresses to my foster mother, who sells costumes for a living, and the green dress sold. It entered the local medieval re-enactment secondhand economy.

Every time I go to an event, someone different is wearing my green dress. It draws my eyes because it’s a lovely colour and the fabric—real wool and enough of it—moves beautifully with the wearer’s body. I never recognize it at first, because every wearer has worn it a different way; it can be mixed and matched, dressed up and down, moved around a good century of history. From ten feet away its lacing looks elegant, its embellishments beautiful gracenotes. I think: Oh my god, that dress looks beautiful. Wait a minute, that’s MY DRESS.

That dress teaches me, every time I see it, to stop looking at myself through such critical eyes. That dress doesn’t just look good, it looks better than most other dresses in its category, because I put in the time and the effort (including using pliers to force a needle through six layers of wool) to make sure it was done right.

It’s my reminder that sometimes the things I do are actually good, and if I indulge my natural tendency to criticize myself in everything, I’ll end up missing when I’m actually awesome.

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Alright everyone. What is your pets' life's mission? Robin's is to be inside the dishwasher and Sparrow's is to dig all the way through both the hardwood floors and my boots

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this guy stronger than me cause I would've unzipped Rictus' pants and showed Zaun & Piltover what a real hungry beast looked like

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which one of u was going to tell me that tea tastes different if u put it in hot water?

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@kieranhawke we take turns 😌

*walks up to a couple* so which one of you is the cheetah and which one of you is the golden retriever who keeps the cheetah from stressing themselves to death

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(repeated like a mantra while rubbing my temples) i will stay silly and not allow the world to make me bitter and cruel. i will stay silly and not allow the world to make me bitter and cruel. i wi

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Happy anniversary, Stonewall riots! Stay revolutionary!

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what is your number 8 song on your on repeat playlist?

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I really don’t like when people post their Twitter threads to ao3…. What am I supposed to do with 400 words….

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a death wish

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A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

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the "i definitely do NOT have feelings for them in any way shape or form" while obviously crushing on them trope might be cliché to you. it's about being doomed from the start, the desperate denial of the starved self, the tragic inevitably of love to me tho

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How to draw some meeses. Some cheese bois. Some rodent squadron.

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