#I feel so vulnerable sharing my work with mum

[outsider-heart]

I showed mum the vid I pitched, produced, directed/DOP and she cried. Then I cried. Then we hugged lol

[russo-woso]

Snap || Leah Williamson x reader

Request | Masterlist

Part of the Mini Williamson universe

Summary You snap at Leah due to the hormones

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“Go sit, baby. I’ve got this.” Leah told you as she pointed to the simple pasta you were making.

You were doing two separate pastas, one that was just plain pasta and sauce, obviously for Leah.

And the other one was a lot more colourful and had a lot more flavour, obviously for you and depending on which one she wanted, Ami too.

You’d been in such a bad mood all day, exhaustion creeping up on you, your back aching, and your bladder being kicked every minute.

The last thing you wanted to do was cook dinner, let alone two separate dinners.

Although Leah was amazing at stuff, football, being a mum, and an incredible wife, she was no good at cooking, and was one of her downfalls.

“You cant cook, le.” You pointed out, stirring the pasta sauce.

“I can try. Go sit down.” Leah repeated, trying to take over what you were doing.

“Leah, you can’t cook. Let me do it.” You snapped angrily, taking back the spoon.

“Baby, you’re tired. Go rest, I’m sure I can do it.” Leah said softly, but you weren’t in the mood to keep discussing it.

“Fine. Good, I’m glad you’re cooking. Now you’ll know how it feels like to cook two separate meals every night because you don’t know how to eat normal food. You don’t know how it feels to have your wife come home from work and just sit down and eat, complaining that training was hard. My day was hard too, Leah. I had to look after a two year old, work from home whilst 35 weeks pregnant. I’m exhausted, Leah. I’m so so exhausted.” You snapped again, tears threatening to spill.

Leah was taken aback, you’d had your fair share of arguments over the years but she’d never seen you this honest.

“I’m going to bed.” You sighed, turning round and waddling up the stairs.

You laid in bed as the tears streamed down your face.

You were angry at yourself for saying all of that.

You knew how good Leah was and you made her feel so bad.

You knew how hard training was on her, and she didn’t deserve all of that shouted in her face, and although you exaggerated a bit, it was all the truth.

A small knock was heard at the door, as Leah peeped her head in.

“Can I come in?” Leah asked hesitantly, a bowl of pasta in her hands.

“Of course. It’s your bedroom too.” You replied, sitting up against the headboard.

Leah’s heart broke at the sight of your red and puffy eyes, clearly seeing the evidence of your tears.

“I’m sorry, I snapped. I shouldn’t have—” you began but Leah softly shushed you as she could see you were getting emotional again.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I put so much pressure on you every day when you’re so vulnerable carrying our baby. I’m so thankful for everything you do and I don’t let you know that. I’m sorry.” Leah said as she hugged you. “I promise, I’ll start doing cooking, I’ll take cooking lessons if it means I get to help you. I’ll do whatever. You’re carrying our baby and looking after Amelia, and I’m so grateful for that.”

“Thank you, le.” You told her. “The hormones got to me, and I took it out on you. Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, baby. I get it. Now, can you rate the pasta? I think it’s okay.” Leah asked and you nodded, a small smile appearing on your face.

You took a bite out of the pasta, humming as you tasted it.

“It’s nice, very nice. I think you should cook more often.” You joked, getting another forkful.

“I will, I promise.”

[soulofapatrick]

Midnight Confessions - Liam Dunbar x Female Reader

Summary: Liam can't sleep so comes to your room and ends up admitting he has feelings for you

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I’m awoken by a soft rustling, the sound of someone fidgeting nearby and the soft click of my bedroom door. It would be barely audible to the naked ear but being a werecoyote I hear it as clear as day. My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dimness of the room. In the half-light, I make out a familiar figure slipping into my room—Liam. 

“Lili?” I murmur, sitting up, voice hoarse with sleep. 

He turns, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, “Oh, hey,” he greets, his voice low and rough with an air of apology, “Sorry, did I wake you?” 

I just shake my head, pretending a false wakefulness, though the little skip of my heart likely gives away my lie, “No, I was already awake.” I lie, offering him a comforting smile, “What’s wrong, Li?” 

Liam hesitates, his usually confident demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic vulnerability, “I… I can’t sleep.” He admits, his voice filled with frustration, “It’s like my brain won’t shut off.” As Liam edges closer, I catch the hint of embarrassment swirling in the air, the subtle shift in his scent betraying his unease. He's never been one to show vulnerability easily, and the faint aroma of it mixing with the usual notes of his scent makes his discomfort palpable.

Without a second thought I’m shuffling closer to the wall and living the duvet, patting the now free space besides me, “Come here,” I offer, used to having any of the pack in my bed at all hours of the day. Being the Pack Mum they all come to me when they can’t sleep, can’t work anything out or just need someone to be with. This is no different, so I don’t hesitate. 

Liam hesitates though, he’s never been one to come to me, always being one to bottle up his emotions and have them all come out in bursts of anger. His IED. His gaze flickers between me and the bed as if fighting some inner turmoil before his shoulders slump and he’s shuffling over to the bed. 

He eases onto the bed, tentative as if unsure of the unspoken rules governing such intimate moments. I give him the space to settles sensing his discomfort lingering in the air like a fragile thread. So, with a silent invitation, I was my arm around his waist, pulling him closer, offering a sense of security in the embrace. His head finds a resting place on my arm, and I gently pull him closer, molding our bodies together, his back against my chest. 

The warmth of his body against mine, the rise and fall of his breaths in sync with mine—it’s a quiet intimacy, a silent understanding that transcends words. My hold on him is gentle yet firm, a reassurance that he’s not alone in this moment of vulnerability. 

His muscles tense at first, the unfamiliarity of this closeness evident, but gradually, with each passing moment, he relaxes into the embrace. I feel the weight of his exhaustion, the weariness of carrying the burdensome thoughts and emotions alone. We lay there in the stillness, a fragile peace enveloping us as I wait for him to speak. My heartbeat, a steady rhythm against his back, serves as a comfort for him enough to begin speaking quietly. 

Liam’s voice is a mere whisper against the quiet backdrop of the night, almost hesitant to disturb the tranquility we’ve found. “I never… I never do this,” he admits, his words soft and raw with vulnerability, “I don’t… I don’t let people in.” His confession echoes in the space between us, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. I tighten my embrace ever so slightly, a wordless encouragement for him to continue, to share the burden he’s carried in solitude for so long, “I’ve always kept everyone at arms length,” He murmurs, the words weighed down the years of self-imposed isolation, “But… there’s someone I really like.” 

His confession lingers, pregnant with unspoken truths. My heart quickens, despite myself, as I’ve honestly liked Liam as long as I’ve known him after Scott turned him into a werewolf.  His unwavering determination drew me in at first, he possesses an unyielding resilience, facing adversities head on, regardless of the trials fate throws his way. His willingness to confront challenges, to persevere in the face of danger, ignites an admiration with me. 

There’s an inherent goodness in Liam—a genuine kindness that permeates every action and word. Despite the turmoil within him, he exudes compassion, extending a helping hand without hesitation. His caring nature extends not just to the pack, but to everyone around him. Witnessing this innate warmth and empathy, I find myself drawn to his selfless heart.

Liam shifts in my embrace, his movements gentle yet deliberate, turning to face me in the subdued light of the room. His features, usually framed by determination or a boyish enthusiasm, now carry a vulnerability that renders him achingly human. 

His electric blue eyes, etched with complexities of emotion, meet mine, shimmering with a blend of uncertainty and an unspoken depth that captivates me. They hold a silent plea, a longing for understanding, yet also harbouring a hint of apprehension about the confession he’s laid bare. 

The soft light casts a delicate glow upon his features, accentuating the curve of his jawline. His tousled hair, kissed by the dimness of the room, frames his face in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. It’s a vulnerability in his gaze, the rawness in his expression that draws me in. Every line, every nuance of his face tells a story—one of resilience, of battles fought, and a heart brimming with unspoken desires. And in that moment, with him facing me, vulnerability and sincere it takes every ounce of self-restraint not to close the distance between us. 

The air crackles with an unspoken tension, a palpable energy that hangs between our breaths, pregnant with the weight of unspoken confessions. His proximity feels like a magnetic pull, an irresistible force urging me closer. 

His lips, parted as if ready to voice more, hover tantalising close, and my pulse quickens at the proximity. The temptation to bridge the gap between us—to taste the unspoken words on his lips—is almost overpowering. His cerulean eyes, shimmering with a tempest of emotions, flicker downwards for the briefest of moments, tracing the curve of my lips before reconnecting with mine. There’s a silent acknowledgement in that fleeting gaze that it’s me. I’m the someone he’s been thinking about and my heart quickens. 

In a heartbeat, his hand moves, a tender caress tracing the contours of my cheek, the touch feather-light yet electric against my skin. His fingertips, warm and gentle, send a shiver down my spine, igniting a flutter in my chest. It’s a gesture so achingly tender, filled with an unspoken longing and a depth of emotion that words couldn’t convey. The weight of his touch, the unspoken invitation in his eyes, they weave an intricate tapestry of desire and restraint, of longing and apprehension. 

For a suspended moment, we exist in this delicate dance, an unspoken understanding passing between us, as if a silent agreement binds our hearts in this tender, charged space. His thumb brushes lightly against the corner of my lips, an intimate gesture that ignites a cascade of sensations within me. I’m captured in the intensity of his gaze, drowning in the unspoken desires that shimmer beneath the surface. 

The charged atmosphere crackles as Liam inches closer, our breaths mingling in a symphony of shared anticipation. Every move, every beat of our hearts, seems synchronised in this suspended moment, an unspoken agreement guiding our silent exchange. 

He draws nearer, an almost imperceptible movement, until the space between us narrows to mere inches. The magnetic pull between our bodies intensifies, practically pressing chest to chest, our closeness igniting a firestorm of emotions within. 

His touch is a whisper against my skin, a delicate dance that sets my sense ablaze. And in that fragile interlude, his hand guides my head, a tender urging that sends a thrill down my spine. Our gazes lock, the depth of his blue eyes holding a storm of emotions—hesitation, nervousness, and an undeniable longing. 

As if testing the waters of an uncharted sea, he leans in, a hesitant yet determined motion that bridges the final gap. Our lips meet in a hesitant, nervous collision—a gentle brush that sparks a conflagration of emotions. It’s a kiss born from the depth of unspoken desires, a tentative exploration of something that has simmered beneath the surface for far too long. The touch of our lips speaks volumes, conveying a yearning and a vulnerability that transcends words. 

The initial brush of our lips, tentative and uncertain, ignites a fervour that neither of us could contain. It’s as though a floodgate has been opened, releasing a torrent of pent-up emotions that surges between us. The kiss deepens, a magnetic pull drawing us into a whirlwind of passion. 

Liam’s lips, once hesitant, now mold against mine with an urgency born of unspoken longing. The kiss takes on a life of its own, a heated exploration that speaks volumes of the emotions feeling this newfound intimacy. 

Our bodies move in sync, a silent symphony of desires entwined. The once gentle touch turns fervent, his hands exploring every curve, every inch they can reach. It’s a dance of fervour and restraint, a silent plea for deeper connection that resonates between each breathless exchange. The world fades away as Liam rolls us over, positioning himself above me. His presence is magnetic, his gaze locking onto mine in an intensity that electrifies the air. The weight of his body against mine sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine, our closeness an inferno of unspoken desires. 

My fingers tangle in his soft locks, pulling him closer, urging the closeness as his lips trail from mine to explore the sensitive skin of my neck. His touch sears through me, every caress leaving an imprint of longing etched into my skin. 

In response, my hands roam, tracing the contours of his muscular chest, feeling that strength beneath the surface. The heat between us intensifies, a collision of passion and unspoken emotions that dance in the air around us. 

Our bodies move in a synchronised dance, each touch, each kiss, an unspoken dialogue of unbridled passion and profound connection. The heat between us amplifies, a whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling around us, encapsulating us in a world of fervour and longing. 

Liam captures my lips again in a passionate kiss that steals my breath away. His fervent embrace, the way he fits against me, feels like an intricate puzzle piece finding its perfect match. It’s a collision of sensations—a tumultuous wave of emotions crashing into each other, drawing us deeper into the abyss of our shared desires. With every stolen breath, every tender exchange, I’m consumed by the intensity of the moment, enveloped in a whirlwind of feelings that leave me craving more. There’s an urgency in the way our lips mold together, an unspoken desire to lose ourselves in this infinite moment. 

As our kisses deepen, I lose myself in the rhythm of our shared passion. Every touch, every movement, resonates with an undeniable longing—an unspoken declaration that I never want this moment to end. In Liam’s embrace, I find a sanctuary where time stands still, where our connection transcends the boundaries of the physical, and whirr the fervour of our shared desire ignites an unquenchable flame within me. 

Eventually, I break the kiss reluctantly, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, feeling the undeniable pull of Liam’s presence lingering between us. “Maybe we should… try and sleep.” I murmur, noticing a flicker of disappointment cross Liam’s features as doubt clouds his expression. 

But before his disappointment settles in, I quickly add, “We have all the time in the world to make out, but maybe not at 3m on a school night.” 

A bashful giggle escapes him, his embarrassment evident as a faint blush tinges his cheeks. He settles back next to me, nestling into the cradle of my arms with a sheepish yet affectionate smile playing on his lips. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He concedes, his voice softened by the intimacy of the moment, “Sleep sounds good.” 

The tension from our passionate exchange gradually dissipates into a quiet tranquility. Liam finds a comfortable spot, his head resting against my shoulder, a sense of contentment enveloping us in the soothing embrace of the night. 

As the minutes pass, the weight of our shared emotions lingers in the air, an unspoken promise of deeper conversations yet to come. The steady rhythm of his breathing against my chest becomes a soothing melody, lulling us into a gentle slumber. 

In the quiet of the night, I hold him close, cherishing the intimacy and vulnerability we shared. Our entwined bodies find solace in each other's presence, a silent understanding that this moment, fleeting yet profound, has kindled something unspoken yet unmistakably beautiful between us. I bury my face in his hair and as sleep claims us, I drift into dreams, knowing that whatever awaits in the waking hours, the warmth of Liam's embrace remains a cherished memory.

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[cheriladycl01]

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 8

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

You and Carlos took the flight to Spain from Miami together. After you slept in his hotel room for the night you knew you’d have to stay with him atleast until the Spanish Grand Prix. You felt so unsafe whenever you turned a corner, but being with Carlos made you feel like you weren’t fully alone.

By the time you got to his home it was the middle of the night and nobody was awake. The house was dark and quiet but you could tell that it was his family home from all the dark portraits of him and his family lining the walls in the entry way.

“Is this you?” You ask politely looking at the funny photo of a young toddler Carlos with cake smushed all over his face.

“Yes but don’t … don’t look at that” he sighs trying to pull you away from the many photos of him and his sisters and parents. Those photos then bled into those of his extended family that you did not recognise.

“It’s cute, that your mum and dad keep all this. And that you still have a room here” you smile kindly at him.

“Mmmm, I guess. Look I don’t want to make too much noise, I know my sisters have work early tomorrow so let’s go up to my room” he says taking your wrist to guide you up the stairs.

You follow his every footstep to make sure not to hit any of the planks of wood that will groan under weight. It was clear Carlos knew how to get in quietly. You make it up the large wooden staircase and he walks you carefully down the corridor.

For a minute you feel like a teenager again, no worries in the world apart from the wrath of a teenage boys mothers whose caught the two of you coming back into his room.

But the reason you are here with Carlos isn’t just because he’s snuck you back into his room after a night out. It’s for you safety, as many people out there, don’t like you right now.

Part of you thought it would have been wise to reach out to Lewis and see what he had to say. After all he was a large part to play in all this. At the same time you didn’t want him to feel guilty as though this was his fault.

Once Carlos had quietly shut the door of his room, he helped drag your case into the corner of the room.

“I’ll take the floor and you can take my bed” Carlos says in hushed tones, smiling softly looking over you.

“If you are okay with it, I’d rather share the bed with you. Y-your bed is against the wall, so if you lay next to me i’d feel safer… because no-one could get to me” you say sheepishly.

“You set the rules for us Y/N, it’s better if i go to the floor. I dont want to start something you wont let me finish. No-one can get to you in this house, you are safe!” he admits and you sigh.

Carlos was someone you wanted in your corner, luckily the Spaniard was a mature enough man to put behind him everything that occured between the two of you and be there for you as a friend.

But you couldn’t help but feel the … distance between the both of you. And it was growing more and more each day. At the hotel, he saw you in a moment of completley vulnerability and it’s not often that Carlos Sainz has women crying infront of him, that arent fans of course. So hugging you, and holding you as you sniffled yourself to sleep felt like the right thing to do.

But it broke his heart knowing that nothing would come of it, as you’d made those wishes very clear all that time ago. Career focused lady … at one point in life Carlos thought that was something very attractive in a woman, he’d be lying if he said he didnt now but he couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed at the world and how you assume you’ll be viewed if you were to ever be involved with a driver.

But then you also both had the answer to how people would react from the state that your home was left in all because there were rumours between you and Lewis.

Once you too thought about the consequences of sharing a bed, you agreed as the last thing you wanted to do was force the friendship down a rocky path, one where your jobs are affected on track.

That was the last thing you wanted.

“Are you sure the floor is okay? I feel really bad” you frown as you sit on the edge of his bed, looking at where he is stood across the room.

“Yeah, i have stuff from when my sisters used to have sleepovers in here with me” he smiles in a nostalgic sort of way, thinking of when he was younger.

“You used to have sleepovers?” you ask cocking a brow,not having expected that from him. However you could tell that he was very much a family man.

“Lets go to sleep hermosa, we can dicuss my family life more tomorrow, but you need rest” he sighs, starting to lay down a thin single matress next to the bed. He grabbed blankets from the wooden closet and a pillow from the bed you’d be sleeping in.

“Sorry, no spares” he says before settling and laying down. He’d changed into some pijamas behind a little partition in his room. He gestured for you to take your turn.

You were desperate for a shower and to scrub off the entire Miami weekend. She wanted to bask under some warm water, but knew that wasnt a possibility at this time of night and in a shared house.

You changed into a large t-shirt before awkwardly shuffling back round to get into his bed.

Despite him not being there often the sheets still smelt like … him. His cologne or his body wash and it was an intoxicating smell that had you laying on your back staring at the ceiling questioning everything.

“Carlos?” You ask quietly to see if he was awake, but when there was no reply you figure he is probably asleep.

“Maybe in another reality you and I could be something more, I think one of my biggest regrets in life will be pushing you away that day and my biggest fear is loosing you as a person in my corner, however that may be. You’ve been kind to me in the short time you’ve known me and made me feel safe and protected when I’ve never felt more vulnerable. I just hope you know that I’m thankful for everything you’ve done and I wish I could let that part of myself open up to you” you sigh letting out everything you’d been thinking throughout the day.

That night you’d slept the most peacefully you had done in years. And you couldn’t help but feel thankful to Carlos.

Taglist:

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[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Congratulations for getting 750 followers, I absolutely adore your works! ❤️❤️❤️

For the event I'd love you to consider those:

1. Jason is the most caring friend. I think that because of his previous experiences of having to care for his mum when she was sick and also because of events that followed his death, especially the emotional hurt he faced, he became very caring and perceptive for those he cares about. He knows all too well how it is to feel abandoned and vulnerable and his goal is to do everything he can to prevent those he loves from getting the same experiences. He's the most affectionate in a quiet way, like, he's the type of person that waits when you tie your shoelaces, he asks for a messege to know you got home safely, he's a great listener, and likes to hear his friends talk about their interest even when he isn't too keen on particular topics, because what matters the most to him is that he has people that love him and that want him in their loves and share their thoughts with him.

He is also extra caring when you get sick, part of him is scared that you'll only get worse no matter what he does, like when his mum was growing weaker in his childhood, but he tries to put that fear aside and focus on doing everything he can to make you feel better.

He takes pride in being able to protect those he cares about and doesn't see it as a duty but as a privilege.

2. I also believe he likes handmade gifts the most. He knows how long it takes to do something by yourself, and he almost cannot belive that for someone he was worth the effort. Expensive things are nothing to him compared to one-of-a-kind decoration, piece of clothing or something cooked or baked specially for his tastes.

Thank you for reading and I hope it isn't too long and that my english is okay😅

And again, thank you for sharing your works, they are the best ❤️ I love your style of writing and the personality of your characters, thinking about your pirate au got me through many commutes lately ❤️ Good luck in the future!!! To many more followers! ❤️

Hi, Tina! Thank you so much!! I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying that au! 🥰💛💛

Ah, I feel I don't even need to add anything to this, but let me try!

1. Yes, I think a big love language for Jason Todd is acts of service. (Touch as well, but I think this would be more if you're dating) As friends, Jason's going to look out for you. It's in his nature to care for the people around him, even if it's detrimental to himself. He's going to do the little things, the big things, the things you won't even notice, all without expecting anything in return because he loves. He loves so much, friendship, romantic, familial, or whatever you'd like to call it.

I also think quality time is going to be important, as you hit on, listening and talking to each other is something he's going to enjoy, no matter what. Even just sitting near each other in the same room and existing together makes him happy!

2. I'm mostly with you in this. Jason's going to love anything you give him, but handmade gifts are going to make his heart skip a beat. Even just wrapping the gift yourself feels special because you took the time to do something for him, while thinking about him. Life gets busy, and the fact that you're willing to carve a piece of time out of your day for him means the world.

The only thing I wouldn't go as far as to say is that expensive things aren't as good as something handmade. I think if you're spending your hard earned money on him instead of on yourself and taking the time to pick out something you think he'd like, it's still a clear effort to do something for him. (I hope that makes sense)

Either way, acts of service are going to be part of the relationship, whether that includes gift giving or not!

[timeagainreviews]

The Hyperfixations of Steven Moffat

Leading up to the Doctor Who Christmas special, I was surprised to see people expressing indifference toward the prospect of new Doctor Who. There were the usual shitbag “Not my Doctor,” homophobes and racists who add nothing but noise to the background radiation of the fandom. But there were also ride-or-die fans expressing disinterest. And it’s not like I don’t get it. The first season of RTD’s return was a bit jank. For me, it was a marked uptick in quality, but it also felt like it was trying a bit too hard. We’re also coming off the tail end of a Hell Year™, and we’re tired. Honestly, I kind of hate anyone whose biggest problem in the world right now is the Superman trailer. But I also recognise the need for escapism. Which is why a Doctor Who Christmas special and Wallace & Gromit double feature was such a welcome reprieve from Hell Year™. That was my Christmas sorted. And you know what? I had a lovely fucking Christmas.

My greatest takeaway from this double feature was that Wallace is a bit of a menace in his own right, and Moffat is a man with hyperfixations. When I say this, I don’t mean it in a judgemental way (except for Wallace, he should take more care), but rather to highlight what I think is Moffat’s main quality as a writer. Recently Moffat disclosed that he has been diagnosed autistic. As a neurospicy individual myself, I appreciate a good hyperfixation. Let this blog be exhibit A. You give an autistic or ADHD person a hyperfixation, and it’s like a dog with a bone. You can see this in the way Moffat writes about time travel. I’ve mentioned it before, but Moffat writes time travel like a young boy who got hyperfixated and couldn’t stop thinking about the implications of time travel. 

What are some of Moffat’s hyperfixations as a writer? How about names beginning with “Os”? What about women who look like Elon Musk’s mum if she were a burlesque scientist? Or young people who meet older people and become obsessed with them into adulthood? (I’m not gonna get into it, but it’s weird that it happened three times) While some of Moffat’s preoccupations are distinctly Steven, others are more widely shared. I still remember being nervous around a hobo statue my grandmother had in her basement. I used to run past it as though it were going to spring into life the moment I took my eyes off it. I understand Weeping Angels. Fear of the dark gets us the Vashta Nerada. Steven Moffat is a writer whose fixations are at the centre of his work. And part of that work lands him in hotel rooms where he has plenty of time to lie there and think about the room he’s in.

About a month ago, we were given our first taste of “Joy to the World,” with the opening scene of the Doctor going door to door in various locations attempting to deliver a ham and cheese toastie and a pumpkin spice latte. I don’t usually watch scenes ahead of their time, but the costume geek in me really wanted to see the latest variation on what has become the closest thing we’ll get to a signature look for this Doctor. I loved the butterscotch tones with the wide legged trousers. Such an iconic look. This may be one of my favourite costumes Ncuti has worn thus far. However, beyond a glimpse at the new costume, I was curious to see the Fifteenth Doctor with a different companion from Ruby Sunday. I adored Nicola Coughlan as Clare in Derry Girls, so I had to sneak a peak.

It was rare in classic Doctor Who for a Doctor to go into a situation with no companions. The Third Doctor was alone before meeting Liz Shaw. The TARDIS engines had hardly cooled between Leela and Romana. There were also the Eighth Doctor and Grace. But for the most part, there was always a companion bridging the exchange. It’s far more common in modern Doctor Who to see the Doctor without a companion at the beginning of a story. These moments interest me because its a chance to see the Doctor’s vulnerability. With no one to impress, the Doctor feels somehow less confident. The Doctor doesn’t always need a companion to remind him when he’s gone too far, but also to remind him to feel love. Here, we see the Doctor still not used to being on his own. He pops into a hotel lobby for a couple cups of coffee before remembering he only needs the one.

While this is a nice re-introduction to the Doctor’s current emotional state, I was a little disappointed by this being the reason the Doctor was at the Time Hotel in the first place. It’s funny that he steals coffee from hotel lobbies on the reg, but it’s a flimsy device for a story setup. Then again, that is Moffat’s way. During his run on Doctor Who it was always impressed upon us that the TARDIS always took the Doctor where he needed to be. He even reiterates this concept during the Doctor and Anita’s conversation about her sat nav. That’s sort of the Doctor’s whole thing. Go somewhere innocuous on the day when everything went to shit. Henrik’s Department Store operated for years without incident until the Nestine Consciousness showed up and the Doctor had to blow the place up. Besides, how else are you going to draw a guy who time travels and has no need for a home into a time travelling hotel? Those are like the two things he needs the least. So yeah, the Doctor steals coffees like they were TARDISes.

Along with Nicola Coughlan guest starring as Joy, we get an adorable turn from Joel Fry as the charmingly dim Trev Simpkins. While his screentime is minimal, I fell in love with Trev almost immediately. Sadly, Trev wouldn’t be long for this world, but the stars are a completely different story. Having been conscripted by the Doctor to spy on a strange man in the hotel lobby, Trev quickly becomes embroiled in the journey of the mysterious Villengard suitcase by becoming its next host. This is how we’re introduced to Joy Almondo, a young woman staying at the Sandringham Hotel, which is a bit of a flophouse. Once again, we’re reintroduced to another Moffat hyperfixation which is a weird “women be shoppin’” attitude when Joy nervously asks Anita if its obvious that she’s single. I rolled my eyes at that line, and it’s made slightly more egregious when you consider the reason Joy is by herself in this run-down hotel on Christmas Eve. Why would she be thinking of men on the night she’s very clearly mourning the loss of her mum? The brief conversation between her and the fly in her room endears us to her far more than her anxiety about finding a man in this economy.

Ultimately, the Sandringham Hotel proves to be a lot more interesting of a location than the Time Hotel. Which is saying something considering that out of the Time Hotel’s many doors into different periods of time, one of those doors is some kind of Hobbit door. In contrast to the wacky voyeur tourism of the Time Hotel, the Sandringham Hotel was where the emotional core of the story takes place, even if I find Moffat’s conceit about hotels a bit contrived. You see, I can imagine the genesis of this story came from Moffat lying in a hotel room and considering that weird door that won’t open. We’ve all wondered about it. But he loses me a bit with his take on why people stay at such hotels.

Back in 2016, my friend Gary came and visited me from the states. We planned a trip down to London where he could see Abbey Road and then onto Cardiff for the Doctor Who Experience and up to Liverpool to see John Lennon’s house. It was a bare-bones trip over three days that required some sacrifices in train times and accommodations. We needed a good hotel in London, but what was most important was a place to hang our heads for the evening, so we went with cheap. The hotel we ended up with, we lovingly referred to as the Hotel Mos Eisley because it was a wretched hive of scum and villany. The rooms were numbered with a devil-may-care randomness. At the top of the stairs was a slashed canvas depicting Marilyn Monroe. One of her teeth had been blacked out and a swastika was drawn on her forehead. We had to sleep with toilet paper in our ears for fear of roaches. But we met so many characters in this hotel that we remember it as a fond memory of our trip. We still laugh about it to this day. My point being, sometimes a hotel room is just a means to an end. Also, some people are just poor. It’s not that deep, Steven.

I will however concede that this isn’t lost on Steven Moffat. As I said before, a lot of humanity can be found in the mundane setting of the Sandringham. Spoilers for the Bible if you’ve not read it, but that sentiment is reiterated with the humble manger where Mary gives birth to Jesus at the end of this episode. Furthermore, the Doctor was merely making Joy angry in an attempt to wake her out of whatever control the Villengard briefcase has over her. I had read about a week ago that Moffat wanted to bring the Doctor’s meanness back into the character, something which I have been waiting for since Chibnall decided to make the Doctor constantly stoked on life. I’m not going to go back and count the number of times in this blog where I mentioned wishing they would make Jodie scarier, but it was often. The Doctor is an alien and basically a god, it’s nice to be reminded of that on occasion. Eccleston is a good Doctor, but he became a great Doctor when we saw him lose his shit in “Dalek.” Even if it was being mean to save Joy’s life, it was nice to see the manipulative cosmic being we saw in the Seventh and Eleventh Doctors.

The Doctor is forced to go the long way to save Joy in the future by boot strap paradoxing the briefcase code to himself. I really loved this year the Doctor spends with Anita, working side by side at this hotel. As my friend Taryn quipped, they did more to build the Doctor and Anita’s relationship in one episode than they did Thirteen and Yaz’s relationship in three seasons. But in this relationship, I did find a few holes, and I don’t think I’m alone in suspecting they mean something. By now, you’ve probably seen a theory or two about Anita being Mrs Flood, and I’m right there with you. While she seems perfectly nice, there are some moments when Anita feels like she’s either a woman out of time, or not of this world. She didn’t recognise police boxes, which is sort of fair. I mean, here in Glasgow, they’re everywhere. But they are still a relic. She also didn’t know what Auld Lang Syne meant. Once again, fair dos, not everyone does. But growing up in the UK and not knowing who Guy Fawkes was? Very suspicious.

The Doctor stays with Anita for an entire year working side by side at the hotel. It gave shades of “The Lodger,” and “The Power of Three,” watching the Doctor stay in one place for an extended period while using his Doctory technology in service of mundane tasks. It was very charming and Christmassy to see the Doctor in this capacity. It only further drove home my belief that Ncuti Gatwa was a shoe-in for the Doctor. However, my internet addled-brain still laughed when they hinged a large portion of the episode’s emotional core around a hotel cuck chair. Moffat is clearly not suffering from the same brain rot as me. It’s Chibnall and VOR (see: vore) all over again. Moffat may have a lot to say about hotel rooms, but so does the internet. Sometimes, the fact that Doctor Who is made by middle aged Doctor Who nerds is entirely apparent. I suppose it’s what makes the show so wonderfully memeable. 

Trev uses the phrase “Everywhere, all at once,” in this epsiode and I can’t help but feel like Doctor Who is dipping its toe into the metaverse. Last season we had a character called Susan Triad who was played by a woman named Susan Twist. Then the characters dance while singing that there is always a twist at the end. If Anita turns out to be Mrs Flood, then we’ll have a woman named Anita Dobson who plays a character named Anita Flood. I’m not saying this is what is happening, but it can’t be lost on RTD. Then again, Moffat did give us Oswin Oswald at the same time we got Osgood and I’ll be damned if it didn’t feel related back then too. One of the recurring theories I see people returning to is that the Doctor is in the Land of Fiction from “The Mindrobber.” Perhaps they have included the Master of the Land into the Pantheon of Gods. If you watched the trailer for season two, you’ll have noticed the large animated character emerging for the theatre screen. It’s either the deepest Eighth Doctor cut ever (Crooked World represent!) or the walls between fiction and reality are bleeding into one another. What will that mean for the Doctor, a fictional character? Doctor Who may be a staple of British culture, but it also exists in a Britain so foreign to modern Britain because it never went through a phase of Dalekmania. None the less, I sense another shakeup on the horizon.

Speaking of Britains from a foreign reality, how about that COVID-19 representation? I say foreign from reality, because if you were to have watched Doctor Who during the pandemic, you would think that their fictional version of Britain never had to deal with the coronavirus. I’m not going to sit here and call Chibnall gutless for not including the pandemic into the storyline. I imagine it was a choice that required a meeting and they ultimately decided not to address it. If I were to guess, I would imagine they left the pandemic out of the show for two reasons. Firstly, they probably wanted Doctor Who to be a reprieve from death and despair. And secondly, they probably wanted to avoid questions like “Why doesn’t the Doctor just give everyone the cure?” So yeah, they probably did what was best at the time and left it at that. I can appreciate that. I can also appreciate them introducing it to give the Tories a proper bollocking.

I’ve seen some complaints about Joy’s decrying the Tories as her mother gasped her final breaths in the hospital. Some people (see: idiots) thought it was too political and woke. Which, if that’s your takeaway from this episode, I pity you. If anything, the Tories got off light. I have friends who lost their mums to COVID and I was happy to see the show finally address the very real situation we survived. I’m old enough to have lived through monkey pox outbreaks, bird flu, SARS, and mad cow disease. I never met anyone who got those diseases. I’ve had COVID three times. The pandemic was out of control in a way no living human had seen since the 1920s. Doctor Who has often struggled with finding the correct tone when tackling deep issues. But I feel like they nailed it here. Oddly, it being a Christmas story allows it the proper tone to reflect on holidays spent with late loved ones.

It’s rare when I watch an episode of Doctor Who when my closest network of friends and family who watch Doctor Who are all in agreement as to its quality. Usually one of us has a grievance to air. But everyone in my little circle really enjoyed the episode. This is surprising considering the somewhat cheesy ending with Bethlehem (though I did love the idea that the Time Hotel is why there was no room at the inn for Mary and Joseph). Myself and Taryn, both atheists, weren’t bothered in the slightest. My friend Alice, a Christian, wasn’t bothered by it on any religious grounds. It was a sweet moment afforded by the fact that it’s Christmas. Besides, if Baby Jesus isn’t invited to his birthday party, then maybe they’re doing something wrong. Other than the usual chuckleheads, I’ve not seen many people complaining about this episode. I did see that some people were let down by the lack of Silurians. The Silurian hotel manager, Melnak, had led some to believe that this Christmas special was going to be rife with Silurians. I never got this impression as he seemed like a one-off character. In fact, after watching the second episode preview, I thought it was implied that the Villengard briefcase hologram took the form of the dominant species during dinosaur times. It would appear that we were all wrong. Other than that and some of Moffat’s weird “women be shopping” brand of dialogue, it was a very solid episode of Doctor Who.

Along with the quiet moments of reflection, the deep connection between the Doctor and Anita, and Joy’s mourning her mother, we even got some exciting action scenes. We got a Jurassic Park style dinosaur with glowy eyes. We even got an exciting train scene. I love watching Ncuti in that flowing coat. He’s like a superhero in his cape atop that train in an ice storm. It was fun to watch him swinging a grappling hook to open the tomb encasing the starseed. But when the Doctor returns, both Joy and the starseed have ascended the stairs to the wild blue yonder above. While I had hoped for a little bit more of a presence of Villengard, I appreciated that this sentient star had more in mind than death and destruction. Villengard was so far from in control of the situation by that point and I loved that. Because, in reality, they’ve always been pathetic and small-time in the Doctor’s world. They acknowledge and appreciate the shared risk all sentient life takes with their actions. They like to think its the same worry people had when they fired up the Hadron Collider, but it’s closer in nature to corporations killing the environment we all depend on. “The Starseed will bloom and the flesh will rise,” wasn’t a threat, but a prelude to Joy’s ascent into the heavens. What’s more is that Trev and the other carriers of the star case will also live on forever in the sky. Leading the wisemen to Jesus and delivering Joy’s mother to the great beyond. If you think this episode didn’t make me cry, you’d be wrong.

The episode ends, but not before revisiting a couple of familiar faces. We see Ruby waiting by her phone for the Doctor to call, but instead it’s her mum. We can expect to see Ruby again, but probably not right away, which I’m fine with. It will give us time to get to know Varada Sethu as “Belinda Chandra,” a name which excites me on two levels. Is she related to Rani Chandra? And why does she have a different name from Mundy Flynn? Is this an Adeola/Martha cousins thing? Or is an Oswin/Clara different versions of the same person thing? Maybe it’s something more? The important thing is that I’m curious and excited to find out. I expect great things from Doctor Who, and if nothing else, chairs for the TARDIS. The future of Doctor Who feels bright from my perspective, I just wish the rest of the fandom felt the same way. 2025, or Hell Year™ 2.0,  is going to be a rough year for a lot of us. Like I said, I understand the need for escapism. You have my permission to feel good about yourself and to enjoy some Doctor Who next year. Fuck the haters. You have value and you deserve to feel joy.

[hey-there-22]

I think little Powder created a rule for herself to not talk about Vander after she was taken in by Silco. She listens when he talks about him, she answers questions when asked directly but she never shares her thoughts. It probably started out of fear of fucking everything up and loosing Silco too, but after some time it just became a habit. 

But Felicia? Jinx didn't know Silco knew her, she didn't know she was the reason Silco became… Silco, so she just mentions her from time to time. 

The first time she did, Silco was teaching her about explosives (because that's what he had learnt they could bond over, even if he knew that Jinx's abilities would soon exceed his). He was working on one of Jinx's bombs, trying to help her figure out why it wasn't working when he just mentioned he used to deal with dynamite on the mines when he was Jinx's age.

There was a moment of silence. She wondered if that was how Silco and Vander had met, but she couldn't ask, so she tried to get that thought out of her head and said the next thing that came to her mind.

“My mum was a miner too.”

Silco froze for a second. Then continued to work in silence for a few minutes.

“There,” he said, handing the bomb to Jinx, “go test it out.”

Jinx smiled, excited, taking the bomb and Silco's sleeve to guide him outside the office, lightening the mood without even realizing it. 

They never really talked about Felicia. The same way they never really talked about Vander. One spoke, the other listened. No comments, no opinions, just letting the other one express their thoughts and feel listened to.

There was only one time Silco broke that unspoken rule: the last time they talked about her.

He had a meeting with a new investor in shimmer. An old contact, Silco had explained. After hours of negotiations, they had finally gotten to an agreement. The man looked around the room while Silco was pouring them a glass to close the deal. He shared a look with Jinx, who had been drawing on the coffee table the whole time. 

“Isn't that…” he began to ask, turning to face Silco, acting as if the kid couldn't hear him. “That's… Felicia's daughter, isn't it?”

Silco and Jinx looked at each other from across the room, both looking for the correct answer to the question in the other's reaction. People had asked before if she was one of Vander's kids and the answer had always been a simple and dry “no” from Silco that made them know not to ask again, but no one had ever recognized her because of her mother.

Silco seemed to keep his cool, thought, and quickly recomposed himself and looked away so Jinx did the same and continued drawing, pretending not to listen. Whatever he had decided was the correct answer was okey with her, she trusted him, trusted his calmness.

Silco handed the man the glass.

“She is, yes.” His tone was cold, a slight threat the man didn´t seem to get.

“Yeah, I figured," he took a sip "the three of you were inseparable back in the day after all.”

Trust? Trust was not was she was feeling anymore. Jinx had her gaze fixed on Silco. She was staring at him so intensely she could almost hear his thoughts going 'fuuuuuck'. But the coward  was. Not. Looking. Back. But then their eyes met for a brief second, and he was the smallest she had ever seen him. Guilty and ashamed and he wasn't Silco but the man he claimed Vander had killed long ago. Her father was showing vulnerability, and she wasn't about to dig in the wound. Not in front of other people.

She slowly returned to her drawings and noticed Silco physically relax. Only when the meeting was over and the investor had left, he acknowledged her again.

“Jinx…” He approached her.

“No.” She didn't move. “You can't do that”

“Do what?” He sat beside her on the floor but leaving some space between them.

“You knew my mum?” She looked at him, anger turning into tears.

Silco doubted for a second, “Yes.”

“No.” She stood up, tears uncontrollably running down her cheeks at that point. “It's not fair. You do not get to say I'm the daughter of the woman you knew. You do not get to feel grief or guilt or whatever the hell you… You can't tell me about her, or think of her when you look at me. You… you can't… She is mine. She is my mum. She can't… I've already…"

Silco got on his knees to hug her tight and she melted into his arms, all the anger transforming into muttered cries, they ended up on the floor again.”Shhh, don't cry. Don't cry, Jinx, she's yours, all yours. Shh, stop crying.”

They stayed like that for hours. Jinx eventually calmed down, but neither of them moved.

“You know, if you ever…” Silco whispered, breaking the silence.

“No.” Jinx interrupted in a weak mutter. “Grieve alone… Please. I don't want to know someone I've already lost.”

[pizzaosaurs]

Currently playing in my friends campaign and we worked on a character set up based on being able to pop in and out of existence due to me having kids.

My character is a dreamwalker class with the following traits:

- she can pop in and out of existence for no reason.

- She can only teleport within 15ft of two players who have an item on them.

- the players were not and still not aware why she can teleport to them yet and it's making a fun d&d roleplay mechanism for why she's constantly popping up.

- she has two HP's, her dream hp which is just a little lower to the other players. It takes all damage except phyc. Her second HP is her real body hp which is very low and only impacted by phyc damage. When her dream hp is gone, she'll pop out of existence and will not be able to pop back for a set amount of time set out by the DM (we have it this way so if I suddenly have a kid based emergency I can accidentally get squished by some thing and then instantly pop back vs also having some risk in terms of time my character would be able to come back. She's waking up so this could be a dice roll to whether she instantly falls back to sleep or if she can't get back to sleep.

- Any revive spells will effect her real body. Healing will only effect her dream body so if she takes phyc damage, she needs to wake up for a long period to reset it.

- as she's making a dream self appear, she feels no pain so walks into stupid situations. She also believes it is a dream but if things go really sour that it's a nightmare and either will pop out of existence or start to take phyc damage. My character is a kid who believes everyone is just in her dream so she just pops out of existence thinking the other characters will just be fine, when she works out they are real but just in another plane, she's going to probably start sticking around.

- because she's dreaming, she can't take items with her when she pops out of existence. It will just fall to the floor. Means the players can game break by having her carry things.

- when she appears she can appear wearing whatever she wants so I will often have her appear in an array of crazy hairstyles and hats. None of it has magic capability. It also means she can shapeshift but she doesn't get changes to her stats. As she's dreaming, she can fly or float but it has to make sense or she'll feel gravity. Means when she appears sometimes she'll appear sat upside down on the ceiling or stood on a wall and fall when seen as she realises gravity.

- she can't feel pain but it also means when she takes damage she bleeds ice cream or rose petals and other werid things. Makes it fun for the DM to mess with their minds but also have a character who appears to have no physical pain but is very emotionally vulnerable.

- she can't upgrade her weaponry or skills unless levelling up because she can't carry anything with her and it's her own dreaming capacity. If other dream based things give her things but this is very rare.

- as she believes that the other players are just in her dream, she keeps going "ohhhhh You're aunt Sally... I can tell because of the big noise" or "you totally must be my mum, I love you!"

We went through a lot of ideas to why she could be dreaming and how this came about and I won't share my character but you could have lots of fun.

Love it though because I can pop in and out instantly with kids, it doesn't break the game and causes a lot of roleplay with the other characters.

If you have a parent who has kids so has to flit in and out of sessions, I definitely recommend a dreamwalker character.

[enigmaticexplorer]

ALLI!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON FINISHING IYASIF 🥳!!!!!

I have absolutely LOVED reading this series and I am so happy that you've shared it with us! It's definitely a series that I'll be revisiting forever and it's certainly a favourite of mine 💙!

My favourite parts (so far) include the firework scene (I love the effort that Wolffe was putting in to try to show Kazi how much she means to him then how she sees him in a vulnerable state), Wolffe sitting watching Kazi swim after Aro had assaulted her (I am a forever lover of how protective Wolffe is of Kazi 🤌 and I could GO ON FOREVER about it!), Neyti talking for the first time despite how sad her reason is (also where she calls Kazi her mum in her muse!!!!), and lastly, I was seriously cheering Kazi on for her first time having sex with Wolffe (I was sitting so proud that she let him get that close to her you have NO idea, I was like a proud mama hen 🥰)

While I've fallen behind, I can't wait to find more favourite parts in the coming chapters and I'm going to really miss reading IYASIF for the first time 💙!

I also need you to know that I love how you characterise all of the characters, I love their motivations and personalities !! (Fox was a favourite who snuck up on me 🥰)

Last but not least, I have some questions!

What have you enjoyed the most about writing IYASIF?

From my own writing I have redrafted plot points and outcomes so many times so, did IYASIF look different when you were first writing it?

That last question in your list is calling to me! How much of yourself and your life experiences have made it into IYASIF?

Out of all the characters, who is your favourite, to write or to read (if that gives a different answer)?

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

I Yearn, and so I Fear Fic Celebration

Maia! Thank you!

You've included some of my favorite scenes (and I'm SO HAPPY you've liked them, too!)! If you like the fireworks scene, you might enjoy an upcoming scene, even if it is super short :) I, too, am a lover of protective Wolffe and him sitting there, watching Kazi, tired from lack of sleep, needing to check on her because, even though they're still becoming friends, he cares about her - something about that scene sits right with me. I'm surprised you mentioned Neyti speaking for the first time! It's an emotional moment, for me haha, and such a pivotal moment, so I'm glad you like it! And Kazi and Wolffe's first time! That was such a meaningful scene to me! All of the trust building from so many months (and so many chapters) and Wolffe's consistent patience and Kazi taking another step forward in trusting him - it all meant so much to me. Thank you for sharing your favorite scenes, I really appreciate it! (And I'm ecstatic knowing you liked the characterizations! Fox snuck up on me, too. And he did the same with Kazi haha.)

What have you enjoyed the most about writing IYASIF?

Seeing each chapter take on its final version. I am so critical of my work, and I think I've mentioned before how I won't reread things I've written because I can't stomach my old writing. But the final version of each chapter in this fic has surprised me. I find myself rereading sections when people reblog and I smile, or I chuckle, or I feel giddy. It's such a unique experience for me; I've never felt this way about a fic I've written. I wanted to give up on various occasions but I'm glad I didn't, because seeing this in its final form has been a comfort. So, I think that's what I've enjoyed the most, seeing this in final form and being proud of my writing.

From my own writing I have redrafted plot points and outcomes so many times so, did IYASIF look different when you were first writing it?

Yes! I wrote an entire outline with specific scenes for 32 chapters last May and June, and then I wrote my first draft immediately after. And then I wrote another draft. And then I started working on individual chapters and tinkering/editing/revising/rewriting them in December and throughout the posting schedule (I consider that my third draft, however, most chapters in Parts III and IV had five different drafts because I kept editing/rewriting them).

Most of the overall story remained the same: Kazi and Wolffe's relationship/individual arcs, Kazi and Daria's relationship/individual arcs; Kazi and Neyti's relationship/individual arcs; Fox's story arc.

A few things that significantly changed:

Originally, Aro was supposed to be a rebel leader. He was a questionable leader, set on destroying the Empire but willing to hurt anyone during the process, and he had an obsession with Kazi. To the point that he blackmailed her into a "relationship" with him. I scratched this entire plotline because it was too much for me. I've explored the dark writing in A New Tomorrow (which I believe you've read, so you probably know what I'm talking about) and I could not stomach writing something dark like that again. So, I removed that plotline during my outlining process in May and decided to make Aro a megalomaniac Empire sympathizer.

Along those lines, Moff Harpy was supposed to play a minor role in the story. During the first draft, I wrote in a few scenes where Kazi interacts with Moff Harpy. (It's Harpy who created a clone assassin lab and was also obsessed with tracking down traitorous clones.) However, it felt like too much. I didn't want this story to focus on the clone assassins/the Empire as much. I wanted to emphasize how normal, ordinary people are trying to survive under Imperial rule (I took inspiration from The Kite Runner) and bringing in Moff Harpy made the story too focused on trying to defeat the Empire rather than exploring what it would be like to live under a fascist government. I love stories that get into the nitty gritty about taking down the Empire, but I wanted to do something different here.

I don't want to spoil things but Daria and Cody's relationship was not in the first draft. (I get into this in a Behind the Scenes XIV, but I'll explain it here, too.) In my outline, I intended Daria and Cody to explore a relationship together. I thought their personalities matched well, and that they would be good for one another. However, I thought that readers would find it cringey that two commanders chose the two sisters. So, in my first draft, I wrote Daria having a relationship with Nova. It was AWFUL. I was forcing Nova to be someone he wasn't, and the chemistry between him and Daria was lacking. In the second draft, I said "fuck it" and rewrote Cody into the relationship with Daria. And I'm so glad I reverted to my original idea because they were such a delight to explore. (I also have delusional thoughts about writing their own fic as a companion piece to this haha.)

Those were the major changes to the story. But Parts III and IV had significant changes in each chapter between drafts 2 and 3. I'm glad that I wrote the first two drafts because it helped me decide what to include, what to remove, and what needed to be added. I felt like each draft allowed me to dive deeper into the story, the characters, the themes. And if it hadn't been for draft 1, then I never would've written the Muses! And if it hadn't been for draft 2, then I would've never dug deeper into Fox and Nova's characters! Both of whom surprised the hell out of me! Cody was a given - I actually spent so much time writing a character document for him (because I'm that person) - and didn't change much between the drafts, but Fox and Nova did! Anyway, I believe Chapters XVII through the Epilogue are all fairly different from their first versions. There are some consistencies (such as Chapter XXII being about sex, Chapter XIV being about Kazi's breakdown, Chapter XXV being about the winter holiday) but most of the scenes were drastically rewritten! And the last two chapters weren't even written because I kept telling myself I wouldn't do them justice until I was 100% sure of all the chapters leading up to them (which ended up being true).

Oh, I also had a few more smut scenes in draft 2 but I wanted to focus more on the emotional side of things rather than the physical (and I get afraid that I can't write smut well) so I removed quite a few smut scenes. I was afraid that readers might give up on the story without the additional smut, but I'm glad I made that decision.

That last question in your list is calling to me! How much of yourself and your life experiences have made it into IYASIF?

Oof, you're calling me out 😅

Honestly, I view IYasIF as a therapy project. Kazi is a direct reflection of me, my insecurities, my struggles with romantic relationships, my fears of abandonment and not being enough. Her storyline about sex and her discomfort and insecurity with it draws from my own experiences. Maybe this is embarrassing, I don't know, but writing her story was a way for me to acknowledge my insecurities, fears, and fearful-avoidant attachment style; it was a way for me to see a female character like myself [someone who isn't curvy or outgoing; someone who is aloof, and cold, and heartless (and yes, I've been called heartless by friends, in a joking way but it still stuck)] be loved, to actually be attractive to a male character. So Kazi is a reflection of myself.

As to life experiences: Kazi's resentment against her mother draws from my own experiences. Many of her conversations with Daria about marriage and loneliness and settling are conversations I've had multiple times throughout my life. Kazi's strong relationship with her father is also based on my own (my dad isn't dead, though). Her relationship with Daria draws from my relationship with my sister and how we struggled for many years (to the point that I despised my sister) and then evolved into something where we've grown closer. (Kazi and Daria have a closer relationship than my sister and I do, so perhaps I was projecting.) But their conversation in Chapter XXII about their parents is something I've thought about regarding my sister and me and our individual relationships with our parents (I am my dad's favorite, and my sister has always clung to my mom).

Out of all the characters, who is your favourite, to write or to read (if that gives a different answer)?

This is such a tough question. I loved writing Fox! He grew on me with each iteration of this story. Kazi was exhausting to write because I was writing about myself and that introspection sucks at times and weighed me down a bit; but her story was amazing to write. Again, I loved being able to write about a male character falling for a female character like me, and I liked the safety of writing Wolffe as this patient, consistent, understanding man. A part of me wants to write this story from Wolffe's point of view because he has so many thoughts (and there was a point in the first draft where I was going to include a chapter on the most memorable moments from his point of view but decided against it). But Wolffe is hard me to write inside his head. I don't think I do him justice, but he's such a delight to write from an outsider's perspective. I've totally screwed up this answer because I've listed three characters I liked to write for haha. Oh well.

For reading: I'm in a phase where I don't want to read fic about Wolffe, Cody, or Fox because I have such a firm view of them in my mind after writing this story, so other developments of their characters aren't interesting to me right now. Which is horrible, I know. Once I can remove myself from this story, I'm eager to get back into reading for all three, because I love seeing how other people portray these three men!

Thank you so much for these questions! If you couldn't tell, I had a lot of fun answering them :)

[orange-peony]

Thank you so much for tagging me @alexalexinii, @artsyunderstudy and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe.

I've been editing the last part of At the speed of light. Here's a bit from chapter 3 (Baz's POV):

“She used to say that,” he explains, his voice low and almost imperceptible. “My mum…she loved Shakespeare. Used to quote him all the time, so every time you do it, I just…”

“Sorry,” I provide, but he shakes his head and finally looks back into my eyes.

“No, I don’t mind,” he says softly. “Remembering things about her sometimes hurts, but—it’s also good, in a way. It makes her feel still close. I don’t know if I make any sense…”

“You do,” I say, finding a place next to him and taking his hand in mine. He lets me stroke it, my thumb gentle on his skin, tender like I’ve never been with anyone else, not even my little brother and sisters.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I can’t stop talking about my mum with you,” he says, looking a little embarrassed. I squeeze his hand and shake my head no—I don’t want him to apologise, and I don’t want him to stop talking either. “It’s just that…it feels like a bruise that won’t fucking heal. I keep on bashing into it, every single time something reminds me of her. Something she used to say or do. A place where we’ve been together, or a song that she used to love that is suddenly on the radio. Or the smell of her perfume on someone else—so infuriatingly wrong. They should have stopped making her perfume when she died...”

I've also started writing a drarry fic. The beginning is a bit unusual, but here's a little snippet:

Harry has been thinking about him over the years. About those pale, long eyelashes fluttering over grey eyes, about pink lips bitten raw during the trials. About the way Malfoy looked, vulnerable and human for the first time. About the way he thanked Harry for testifying in his mother’s favour. Harry stupidly gave him his address, telling him to stay in touch. Malfoy never contacted him again, simply vanished into this air, not even leaving a puff of smoke, like the most perfect spell.

But he’s here now, looking gorgeous and rosy-cheeked, carrying a poor animal in his arms and towering over Harry by a good five or six inches.

Tagging: @pato-roldnart, @bubble-gumhead, @avenueofesc, @larkral, @rimeswithpurple, @thewholelemon, @letraspal, @crazybutgood, @okay-sky, @littlewinnow, @fatalfangirl, @cutestkilla, @j-nipper-95, @hushed-chorus, @martsonmars, @facewithoutheart, @imagineacoolusername, @blackberrysummerblog, @tea-brigade, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @ebbpettier, @captain-aralias and anyone else who wants to share what they've been working on.

[southeastasianists]

Tan Ming Li is a certified death doula. Just as there are those who facilitate bringing new life into the world, there should be people facilitating more and better ways to talk about death and dying, she reasons.

In 2023, she started The Life Review, a social venture with the mission to normalise conversations about death, dying and bereavement. Events open to the public include Life Stories, a series of chat sessions with topics such as “Motherless daughters”, “Real men don’t cry” and “Pet loss and our enduring bonds”; as well as Death Over Dinner, in which people come together to have conversations guided by Tan about their personal experiences with loss while sharing a meal.

The last Death Over Dinner took place at South Indian restaurant Podi & Poriyal, where participants were served dishes containing ingredients with special life and death significance in South Indian culture such as black sesame seeds, which signify purification; and jackfruit, the wood of which is often used as funeral pyre logs during cremation.

“What better way for Asians to connect than through food?” said Tan, explaining that Death Over Dinner is actually a global movement that originated in the US, “but we tweaked it so that food was a much bigger component, building the conversations around the ingredients and dishes. In other countries, the concept is just for people to talk about death over the dinner table.”

Tan, who is in her 40s, believes that getting comfortable with talking openly and honestly about such topics is vitally important.

“A nationwide survey conducted last year (by the Singapore Management University) revealed that ‘only 53 per cent of Singaporeans are comfortable discussing their own death while barely a third (33.4 per cent) would do so with someone who is dying’,” she shared.

She feels there is also a tendency to over-medicalise conversations about death, focusing on treatments and doctors.

“As a society, death is not something that is commonly discussed and we tend to be ‘death-denying’. Healthcare and wellness are all about ‘preventing’ death. In fighting against death, we are unaccepting of this natural part of life. This makes it hard to be vulnerable about our emotions around it,” she said.

Even if you haven’t lost a loved one yourself, “When someone else experiences a loss, many of us don’t know how to address the topic and end up using platitudes like ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or worse, ‘Everything happens for a reason’,” she pointed out.

Ironically, avoiding the subject of death inadvertently gives it more power. “This power can then suppress our thoughts, beliefs and behaviour,” she opined.

NO STRANGER TO DEATH AND DENIAL

Tan speaks from personal experience. When she was 17, her mum died of cancer. “Dad said, ‘Don’t worry, she will recover.’ Her sudden passing left us in shock. I remember my dad brought me to the hospital canteen, broke the news to me and simply said, ‘We just have to accept it and move on’. I don’t think he ever recovered. As far as I recall, there were no conversations about it within the family.

“In the years that followed, I lost my dad, grandma, uncles and aunts… I was frozen in my grief response and it took a mental health crisis for me to start addressing these issues.”

Concurrently, Tan had always been interested in social work, from her university years when she volunteered to support children with special needs, to volunteering to teach yoga and breathing at various institutions including the Society for the Physically Disabled (SPD) and the Institute of Mental Health (IMH). She also lived in Thailand for several years, where she gave her time to a social enterprise helping indigenous craftsmen sell their goods.

Her career was in Advertising Research until she took a sabbatical and travelled to India in 2013. Following that period of time in which to think and reflect, she embarked on a new path, offering services such as mindfulness and movement.

“In the course of my work, I encountered clients who are terminally ill or grieving the loss of a loved one. Curious about how to better support them, I started researching the topic,” she recalled. “One day, I received an email from students working on a grief literacy event, inviting me to facilitate a somatic movement session for parents who had lost their child. Somatic movement involves exploring the body's sensations and movements to promote healing. During this session, many participants were able to release long held emotions within their bodies, even years after their loved one had passed.”

Motivated by the experience, she enrolled in the death doula course offered by the International End of Life Doula Association, an organisation in the US. Participants acquire skills revolving around how to support and comfort the dying and their loved ones.

“As I delved deeper into the subject, I realised that this was something that needed to go beyond supporting my clients one-to-one. The societal reluctance to discuss death openly leads to a lot of discomfort and unresolved emotions surrounding the topic, and I realised the need to scale and bring this out to the public,” she said.

So, “I decided to pursue a Masters of Science degree in Thanotology – even doctors go, ‘What’s that?’ – and start The Life Review as a platform for people to get comfortable discussing end-of-life matters through education and engagement.”

As far as she knows, she’s the only one in Singapore taking a Masters in Thanatology (“When the course started, the Programme Director said, ‘Now we are an international programme, thanks to Ming Li!’”) and one of just four people in Singapore who have completed death doula training.

“While trying to help people going through bereavement and grief, it struck me that I also had to look at my own experiences and work through all the emotions and experiences that I hadn’t known how to deal with – or even realised was necessary to,” she divulged.

“The way society operates, if we experience a loss, we are given three days of compassionate leave – and only for immediate family – and then we are expected to get back to ‘normal’ as productive members of society. But what about losing a friend? A partner? A pet? Do you get over it in three days? Since the norm was to get on with life, that’s what I did. It was only later in life that I realised that it was affecting me in ways that I did not immediately connect back to my earlier experiences, such as in the way I interacted with people in relationships and friendships. I would not get too close in case they would disappear,” she shared.

And so, “The main reason I’m doing this now is because of what I have gone through in my own life. The programmes I’m planning are skewed towards caregivers for now, as I don’t want anyone to be in a situation that I was in.” She added, “It was a turning point for me to adopt cats, knowing that they will die before me, yet to accept this and love them.”

Her work has also turned into “my legacy project for my parents”.

“I have a purpose to fulfil now, to bring The Life Review into fruition, in the remaining years left of my life. And in a way, I’m already planning for my end, making sure that I don’t regret things that I could or should have done,” she said.

DINNER WITH A PURPOSE

At Death Over Dinner events, “The framing of conversations is intentionally designed to be inclusive and non-confrontational. Participants are encouraged to share their thoughts and experiences without feeling pressured to delve into deeply personal reflections or imagine their own funerals,” Tan said.

The dinner serves as a casual starting point for discussions about a normally taboo topic to unfold naturally, fostering a sense of comfort and familiarity around the topic of death, she continued. “The intention is not to impose rigid guidelines or restrictions but rather to offer gentle guidance and prompts to steer the dialogue in a constructive direction” while embracing cultural elements within our specific society.

It is also about equipping people with the knowhow and language to either walk alongside a person who is dying, or to support a caregiver.

There are sessions taking place every quarter, which are open for individual sign-ups. The next Death Over Dinner event is planned for Apr 25 at Podi & Poriyal, with a group size of 12 to 16 people. Tan is also open to private group bookings, and hopes to possibly work with other restaurants as well.

The topic of death is rarely broached when everyone is healthy, she mused. But, in the face of loss, which comes sooner or later to all of us, “People may struggle to find the right words to express their feelings or fears, fearing that broaching the topic could cause further distress or discomfort to the person who is ill. As a result, conversations about end-of-life wishes, funeral arrangements, or even acknowledging the possibility of death may be avoided altogether, creating a palpable tension and unease.

"Dealing with it openly and saying what needs to be said can help the ones left behind adjust to the loss after the person passes away.”

And, “In the case of someone who knows they are dying, people around them not wanting to talk about it can leave them feeling unheard. They may not be able to express their desires; there may be things left unsaid; there may be people tiptoeing around them and telling them, ‘You’re going to be fine’ when they know full well they won’t be.”

The question of how we can begin to approach the topic of death in a meaningful way begs another: How talking about death openly and frankly can help us to live our lives more fully and intentionally.

“Accepting the finite nature of life and finding peace with it can change our outlook on life. When we acknowledge that life inevitably starts and ends, we are able to define what happens in between that holds significance,” Tan said.

“How do we make what happens in the middle matter? How do we leave a legacy for ourselves and future generations? Do we want to spend our time sweating the small stuff and harbouring grudges, or instead, use it to create memories and foster deep relationships? Living intentionally prompts us to confront these questions and align our actions with our values.

“Ultimately, embracing the impermanence of life compels us to live authentically, love fiercely and leave a legacy of compassion and connection.”

To sign up for Death Over Dinner, visit https://thelifereview.org/death-over-dinner.

[nightswithkookmin]

Bingo. And if you pay close attention to all of my takes on ships, you'd notice a pattern. I am drawn to ships where the dominant strong headed emotionally stunted almost damaged one reaches a breaking point to allow themselves be vulnerable around another and recieve love.

Jungkook is a taker, I like to see him give.

Tae is a giver, I like to see him take and recieve.

Jimin is a giver- I like to see him give, receive and take for reasons I'll explain later.

So if any of these are in a ship where they aren't doing any of what I desire to see in them, I'm not shipping that ship🙂

Personally I struggle with being vulnerable in my personal life. I say I want love and actively seek it but I struggle letting another person take care of me. I struggle being at the center of attention and being made a priority- yet that's what I deeply want.

Growing up I used to fight my mum whenever she did my laundry and I would sooner jump off a speeding train and break my legs than ask anyone for help.

In my relationships I'm always the one giving and yes I do attract narcissists and emotionally unavailable and noncommittal girls.

I struggled making friends cos I wouldn't let anyone close- not because I was afraid they would hurt me. But more so because I didn't want them to see just how much I am hurting. I can't do it. I don't want people to worry about me or feel sad because of the difficulties I struggle with.

The down side of empathizing with people is you start alienating yourself to protect others from the pain.

Shipping is a way I heal too. I learn from these people, take notes and practice how to be vulnerable with a partner- therapy is expensive please 🥴

I learn the emotional tools they employ to resolve conflicts and share their vulnerabilities with one another.

Once upon a time, if I had a disagreement with you we were done. Lost a lot of friends that way I stopped making friends all together. Until this dude I befriended told me after a fight, take tonight to cool off and when you done call me. Just because we have an argument don't mean our friendship is over.

Then I see Taegi talk about holding hands whenever they have an argument. Jimin explaining to Tae he's only trying to give him strength and push him to be a better him.

That changed my outlook on friends and relationships for ever. Now I don't tiptoe around people, I'm not afraid say what's on my mind, I'm not afraid to dissent or hold opposing opinions and no we don't have to agree on everything to have congruency.

It's why I hate people who berate and demonize shipping. Like any source of entertainment shipping can be therapeutic. And for same sex ships, it's a safe way to explore your sexuality or learn about your yourself and work through certain difficult emotions without necessarily putting yourself at risk.

Jimin, Tae are without a doubt the givers of the group. They give and give to the point it's borderline unhealthy- most of us struggle with this and it's important while we watch them navigate these emotional Situations that we have discourse around it, understand it and learn from it.

Hobi has healthy emotional boundaries. Namjoon, Hobi, Jin- in my opinion don't really seem to have questionable emotional attachments the way the Maknae line do. Suga walks a fine line but he's alright.

I like to see the givers take and the takers give. Thus, I am drawn to certain ships and repelled against others. Nothing personal tuktukkers.

I like when two givers are paired because they balance each other out. Two givers swiftly transform into sharers. A giver and taker however transforms into codependency especially if the taker enjoys taking whatever the givers has to give.

But its not always the case that a taker enjoys taking. If they enjoy taking from just about anyone and everyone that's just greediness.

where the taker is closed off to receiving or taking what the other has to offer you have nothing but a very one sided unrequited and even toxic dynamic.

For Kook, I think he is aware of this fact. He's said himself that while he and Tae have a lot in common they are very different in that Tae is not as greedy as him. That he's so greedy he used to try to do everything at once.

He's talked about struggling with this aspect of him- taking taking and taking all that he can get without a care. In relationships, this might translate as him taking all the attention, putting his needs first, doing what pleases him without compromising, allowing himself to be prioritized by his partner and allowing his partner to put his needs above theirs consistently.

But I think his physical and emotional boundaries is a way for him to keep that in check. You should count yourself lucky if someone like that is telling you to take care of yourself, and not give too much to them. Which most of the time is what is happening with Tuktuk and BTS and even at times Jikook.

Dude ain't trying to take advantage of nobody💀

Do you know how easy it would be for him to just let himself be consumed and bask in all that overflowing love and attention when he has to do nothing in return for it?

And it's even worse when people give just because they want something in return. That's extortion and emotional trafficking. Bamboozling of the highest order. I loved you therefore love me back

For a taker, giving and sharing becomes a love language and something they prize highly. Which means they don't give to just about anyone or share with just about anyone and if you tend to be a Natural sharer or giver they find you very distrustful because you give to just about anyone and anything💀

It's like the entry level for you is ground zero and so low just about anyone can walk in. And they do love to earn your love. They love to work for it and feel they've earned the attention you give them, they've earned the caresses, they've earned YOU.

It's why many books will tell you to play hard to get to get a man. lmho.

AND yes, they will act jealous if you treat everyone the same way you treat them, yes they will find you unattractive if you act Barbara the builder trying to build everyone up- you get my love, you get my love, everybody gets my love. Because then your love is not special the way theirs is.

So the more Tae pushes, the less attractive he becomes to someone like Jungkook. Jimin learned that the hard way didn't he?

Jungkook has a lot of love to give too but unlike many of us, he is selective about who he loves and who he gives his time and affections to and no about of badgering and pestering will make him love you💀

From where I stand, there is nothing wrong with him and I hope to God people around him don't gaslight him into thinking there is.

[ewyband]

explaining HRT to my parents and acceptance

hello everypony, if you don't know, im non binary. im gonna be really vulnerable here for a hot sec but i just wanted to share my experience because its something ive found very difficult to write about in musical form.

gender has always been super confusing for me and whilst there were signs of me being trans when i was younger, its only something thats become apparent in the last three years. i wont bore anyone explaining my experience of where i stand with my gender but i wanted to share my experiences with HRT and the process of telling my parents about it.

i started seriously considering HRT around around a year ago and decided to take the plunge around two months ago because every time i looked in the mirror, i noticed more chest hairs, thicker body hair, broader shoulders and a squarer jawline -- this all makes me extremely dysphoric and i hated it. the conclusion i came to was, this was all going to continue to intensify throughout me aging and so the main question was: do i want to age on testosterone or estrogen? once i started estrogen i felt so much better about myself, almost instantly (as in, within the first few days). my mood has drastically increased and i have 'breakdowns' way less now which is great!! one thing i was scared about was chest growth and the day before i started estrogen, i was very tired from a long day and had a breakdown because i was quite literally mourning my freedom. i never really have been more confident shirtless or anything but i mourned swimming in the sea, in lakes, in rivers and in tarns on the mountain tops -- the sense of freedom you feel when you're fresh out of an ice cold tarn on a mountain is indescribable. however, now i have responsibilities, i have a career i have to make work, i have people i need to please and for some reason i felt not being able to be shirtless was another freedom i could potentially have snatched away from me. when i told my mum about me starting HRT she said 'well, i'm sure you've made an informed decision so i'll just tell you the same thing i've said about weed: just be careful okay' which was a genuinely pleasant surprise when my dad found out, my mum called me saying 'just in case you get a call from your dad, he's really worried and he's been losing sleep over it. if he calls you, please dont argue with him, just agree with him for now for our sake' my dad did end up calling me and i explained everything and any worries that he had. he had a lot of questions but i managed to answer everything without getting too upset. towards the end of our call i thought he said 'i just needed you to understand' to which i replied 'yeah i understand, its okay to be anxious, because i definitely was' and he replied 'no, i said "i just needed to understand"' im really grateful for my parents being so accepting and its genuinely strengthened our relationship. even though they're pretty hit and miss with calling me my correct pronouns, they still love me and havent disowned me and im really grateful for that.

anyways, thanks for coming to my ted talk

[the-astrophel-system]

Why Our Alters Mask

tw // brief mentions of ramcoa (no details), using peoples triggers against them, ableism, family being uneducated, brief mentions of deadnaming and misgendering

so, we have a therapist who doesn't specialise in dissociative disorders. but for right now, shes kinda our only option (which is fine, we like her).

but we were talking in our session yesterday and she asked if our mum was aware of our alters and was accepting and stuff. its complicated, but the answer is yes. she's still a bit hesitant, but accepts the fact that we think we have this disorder.

anyway, we mentioned to our therapist that she has been introduced to a few different alters, but we mask almost constantly, so its not like she picks up on it herself.

and our therapist was confused.

again, this is someone who doesn't specialise in this sort of thing, so we do have to talk about our experience and those of people in the community (but y'know she also does have access to scientific and professional stuff, so its not like we're going "our system is the only way it can present").

but i was SO surprised that she was surprised that so many systems mask.

i explained that if you freely drop the mask, thats gonna inform your abusers that what they're doing is working in their favour. they'll learn triggers and use that to their advantage. now, im coming at this from a organic system's pov, we haven't been programmed, nor am i claiming that if systems unmask, they'll automatically be a victim of programming, or later-in-life abuse where the abuser is trying to manipulate the system.

i told our therapist that if you give out your triggers, or you start presenting these switches, people can pick up on those patterns and then use that to their advantage. i clarified and said that i dont think our mum or family would do this to us, its just very very vulnerable and can be dangerous if we unmask completely.

even comments like "you're acting grouchy today", "stop being so childish", and "you never act like this". can all hurt so much and make the system or that particular alter feel guilty for existing the way they do. it would be amazing to unmask around family, but when i have before, i get told im being rude or mean, when thats just how i interact with people. i tease, im a bit blunt, and i tend to swear a lot. im not trying to be rude or offensive, but i constantly feel like an asshole if i do unmask, just because this edgy exterior is who i am.

it can also sometimes be embarrassing for other alters when you do unmask. im sometimes embarrassed by other parts interests, clothes, attitudes, and more. its internalised shit and im working on it. but if we were to unmask, im so worried people wont take me seriously, just because they know of a part who acts differently. and that sucks so much.

another thing is getting told shit like "this is all so confusing", "you have too many alters, how am i supposed to keep track", "you're placing the blame elsewhere because you dont want to admit what you did wrong". comments like that suck so fucking much. i hate them, they hurt, and they're based in misunderstanding.

having many alters (even just any number over 10) can be extremely confusing to others. but i haven't met a single system who expects others to fully know of, remember, and relate to all their alters. all i ask is you accept each new part and if you do happen to remember some names, thats awesome.

it also connects to a lot of gender shit, which our family struggles with. we still cant get them to use our preferred name or pronouns, and we feel like we're too much if we share that we have multiple parts that use different or multiple pronouns. i get that it can be confusing, i understand, especially because my family doesn't see me all that often and if my name and pronouns change each time we see them, it will be a lot to remember. i get it. but my family fills me with so much fear because i feel like they wont try. they wont try to connect with, or understand me. its not fair and its incredibly isolating.

we've also been told that we're placing the blame of negative actions, onto other alters. which, we never do btw. the only time we "shift the blame" is if we try to explain that we don't fully remember what we said or did, because of amnesia. we always try to take responsibility, its just not seen as fair for people to say we're "shifting the blame" any time we try to explain what is going on for us internally. our did isn't an excuse, but its an explanation, yet no one lets us explain.

i explained most of this to my therapist and said that one day we can hopefully be able to unmask more around our family (or even just our mum and brother) so we're less drained all the time. we would get less comments like "why aren't you talking to me", "you're so grouchy", "why are you watching (x show) thats for kids". and more comments like "oh is it (x alter)? thats okay, i wont be mad if you need some time alone", "oh! watching (x show), is this a good episode?", "hey, it seems like (x alter) or (y alter) might be around. i know you're very blunt but just remember to be kind towards your brother", "im not sure if you remember yesterday, but (x alter) and i started this conversation, would you like to talk to me about this, or would you like to wait until (x alter) is back?". or whatever the comments are.

accepting that we are slightly different and not expecting consistency of behaviour, likes, or memories, is so important to us. who knows if this will ever happen for us, idk i guess we wait and see

- virgil (he/him)

[eclecticpagann]

Before we dive in, a heads-up: my posts can get a bit lengthy. But if you’re here for the journey, I’m grateful to have you along for the ride.

By now, you probably know I treat this blog as a bit of a personal journal. I love sharing my experiences because, in the end, maybe they’ll help someone else on their own path.

So, here we are—another update following yesterday’s post. I was so thrilled that someone understood what I’ve been going through that I just jumped right in without telling the whole story. Today, I’m here to fill in the gaps.

A little background about me—vulnerability included. My health, both mental and physical, isn’t always the best. I’ve had lifelong struggles with motivation (as I once shared in a post about Apollo), and that’s made keeping my home in order a real challenge. Living with chronic illness and dealing with mental dips has been frustrating, especially when I can’t keep up with the basic things I want to do, like cleaning.

That brings us back to the experience I mentioned yesterday. I left out a small detail initially, thinking it wasn’t significant, but here we go. I had been talking to Hel’s candle, seeking some kind of clarity, and naturally, I turned to something I trust deeply: my tarot deck.

With my mind racing at the thought of Hel reaching out, I struggled to form a question. Finally, I landed on something along the lines of, What am I experiencing in this connection?

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

The cards seemed to play along, either staying perfectly in place or scattering when my fingers fumbled. Heart pounding, I shuffled again.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.

Finally, a single card jumped out: Ten of Swords, Reversed. I felt a pang of nerves—we all know that swords can be intense. Still, I grabbed my guidebook, a precious one my mother wrote. She compiled meanings from her own journey, blending research and intuition. Her insight has guided me through so many readings.

With shaky fingers, I flipped to the page. The reversed Ten of Swords was full of healing—specifically, “Steady improvement in health and an indication that any losses are in the past.” At the time, it didn’t make much sense in the context of Hel, so I dismissed it, thinking maybe it was a misdraw.

But this morning, I woke up feeling…different. No nausea, no headache, none of the pain that usually plagues me. I felt strong, ready to tackle the cleaning I’d been putting off. I haven’t felt this good in ages. I got to work, making a dent in my to-do list, taking breaks but feeling genuinely fulfilled.

And then it clicked. Hel was showing me that I’d have the strength I needed, guiding me to reclaim some control over my life. It was her nudge to get up and take action. She was helping me.

So, of course, I thanked her in every way I could think of. I picked a fresh mum from my garden for her altar (and one for Aphrodite, because fairness is everything). I promised Hel I’d set up her altar before Apollo’s—a promise I’m genuinely excited to keep. I’ve never felt this kind of connection to a deity, not even Aphrodite reached out in my lowest moments quite like this.

I’ll admit, though, a part of me still questions if it’s really her. But my mom’s friend, who has an incredible gift for this kind of sensing, might be able to help confirm it. He once saw Freya watching over my mom without knowing she’d felt drawn to her, so I feel reassured in asking.

If you have gotten this far, thank you for taking the time to read this. I appreciate each of you who has joined me on this wild, unfolding journey.

[femanthropy]

hello, have you ever spoken about your “lib fem to rad fem” pipeline as you described it?

I used to be a massive libfem, completely brainwashed. I was so close to having a sugar daddy, I applied to an adult modelling site that fetishised women like me (i sent it photos of me in lingerie to them and i was only 18, i have no idea where those photos ended up - it makes me feel like i’m about to have a panic attack), i believed in “be a slut do whatever you want”, i got totally eaten and spat out by hook up culture. I was extremely hyper sexual which led to more sexual trauma which led to further hyper sexuality and low self esteem (think of the image of the snake in a circle biting its own end)

i believed the “doing it for myself” bullshit when it came to being hyper feminine and spending £100s on nails and make up and heels. I was constantly dolled up, tottering around in heels everyday all day (to the point i have back and calf and feet issues even 10 years later). I used sex and male attention to validate myself and it was the only thing that made me feel better before making me feel even more empty and damaged and used and spat out. I was totally sold on “trans women are women” and every other lie sold by lib feminism and misogynists.

I was the perfect candidate for it all too because by the time i was 18, i had sexual and emotional trauma at the hands of men, i was lonely and my self esteem was shattered. my boyfriend had just cheated on me and i felt worthless and ugly. my dad abused my mum and i and he was addicted to porn - so i had no concept of healthy love and respect between a man and woman. i was desperate to be loved and wanted. I felt empty and wanted to feel whole. i wanted to be accepted. i was taught my value was in how i looked and how much i was desired. i’d never been liked or wanted by men (or even women) but once i’d started hyper femininity it all changed and everything combined was like blood to a shark - not sure if i’m the blood or the shark, maybe both.

I look back and i really did feel groomed by the patriarchy, men and lib “feminism”. I was vulnerable and wounded as the patriarchy and the men around me intended. I found false sisterhood in the women who believed in it too. I was the perfect target.

i’m not like that anymore and i don’t know anyone who had that same radicalisation. it begun in 2020 i think. i think i always knew underneath i was lying to myself and knew the reality but was in denial and afraid to wake up even though it was hurting me. i ended up in a relationship with a woman a few years ago which was like a bat to the head in regards to learning what sex, respect and love actually is and how you shouldn’t have to be constantly performing to be loved and respected by your partner (i.e pretending you aren’t hairy, pretending you don’t have needs, pretending not to have boundaries, playing the role of sexy childlike mother and maid who he can fuck - just pretending you aren’t a human!). after that the trans movement really started kicking off as did only fans and incel culture and that was it.

so i’m completely different now and i’m so grateful but boy am i left with lots of open and painful wounds i’m still to this day struggling to close. lots to forgive my younger self for and not punish. lots to let go of and heal. lots of rage turned inwards that i need to direct outwards.

anyways, my intention wasn’t to dump on you but share and connect. id love to hear your pipeline journey. sorry if this wasn’t grammatically correct or was a clumsy read, i’m on the train from work and am very tired :)

Hey! (Feel free to DM me if you feel comfortable cause there’s a LOT to say about this. But first off, I’m sorry to hear of the abuse you endured 🫂 I hope that your journey has been healing and you don’t think that any of it was your fault.

Honestly, I started to feel disillusioned by liberal feminism because of mainly two reasons. (At least these were points in which I felt hey. This is really harmful and actively going to put feminism backwards if libfems keep pushing it) (I had been already vocal and supportive of women’s rights outside of mainly first world countries, so I’m not including stuff I had actively been advocating for before, such as anti misogyny in religion, my criticism of women’s healthcare being understudied and also that a lot of diagnosies, tests, safety features had been designed with men in mind.)

The first reason was “bimbo” feminism. That seems like a silly answer but it really sort of got me to start seeing the movement was eating itself. TikTok especially I saw many women portraying and posting themselves as essentially “dumb blondes” and presenting (let’s be honest unfortunately) very sexual and stereotypical. The whole “when women won us the freedom to have a job now I work as a cashier as a supermarket instead of (another stereotypical reference of some sort, implying they are dumb). Then “girl dinner” came along and I was like hm.

Another one ofc was the transgender movement, moreso transgender women. I started to see on tiktok a few of these trans identified men claim to have periods/menstruate. The way they were adamant and shot everyone down who pointed out it was not possible, soon a lot of TRA and more “chronically online” trans identified men were now making the fact transwomen menstruate an Actual Scientific Undisputed Fact. Later I saw a bunch of “hormones change your sex and your dna” but that was less popular of a take.

And then I came across the “passing” issue. I saw trans identified men, with beards, with AGP style makeup make their way into women’s restrooms via force and threats. I then thought. Well why do I think that “passing TIMs should have access and not this grotesque specimen with clearly autogynophilia in. (Mind you I was still the TWAW crowd at the time. Then I felt guilty for thinking “passing matters” and realised that any criticism of TRA lead to ostracism and social outcasting. EVEN if the criticism or merely question was in good faith.

(Another note is I always believed that transgender people had to have gender dysphoria and then that was passed off as “transphobic” too and I was like 🧐🧐🧐)

Then i started to “hate read” these “terf” blogs. I felt even more shitty because I agreed with them about everything. Including about TRA and slowly realised the sinister part of the movement. That they were actually eroding women’s protections as an oppressed group in favour of transgender rights, such as single sex spaces. That trans women had to be “centred in feminism because they are the most oppressed of the oppressed ever and were “silenced for so long”). And that “cis” lesbians had to all of a sudden be enthusiastic and accepting of penises or else they were transphobic. (Plus they didn’t come down nearly as hard on heterosexual men. Which of course is. Because they weren’t women.)

And all the time I’m discovering inconsistencies in the movement. More research of gender affirming care clearly indicating many devastating side effects. The CASS review. The specific demographics of people transitioning (young girls in middle school/high school) vs many a case, a much older man who was married and had kids and the like.

Those are the bigger reasons. As I said, I was already an advocate for rights of women subject to brutal and oppressive misogyny overall, TRA just. Creeped in. And feminism was being redefined and commercialised and catered to men).

Again, thank you so much and feel free to DM me anytime if you’re comfy cause I do love a good chat about liberal feminism. 🩵 take care