#I kept thinking about how thankless a lot of this work is if you don't know how much time and money and attention goes into it.

[notbecauseofvictories]

[ Open House Chicago 2024 — All Saints' Episcopal Church, Dank Haus German Cultural Center, St. Mary of the Lake, Riviera Theater, Wilson Avenue Theater]

[inkskinned]

something i've been thinking a lot about is that just surviving is often both the least rewarding recovery experience and also the absolute most critical skill.

i think many of us have spent the last few years of our life just... holding the line. our legs trembling under all that weight. many of us backslid in the sand; and that was agonizing. we have spent so much of our life pushing, and to be forced backwards... we are already so exhausted. it is unimaginable to think we must remake the progress that had already been hard-won.

there's a graph that exists of how you can roughly expect any artistic skill to grow. we all go through periods of rapid growth and discovery; only to plateau. there is often a little sorrow in the plateau, because we're not moving quickly. we don't see those huge strides. there's no obvious sense we're learning.

but the art we're making in that plateau matters. it can still be effective, evocative, exciting. you can still feel inspired, happy, creative in that plateau; because the skills you have are growing, it's just that you're a spot where you don't need to focus on skill-building, you've finally reached a place where you can focus on actually making things. and at some point, without you expecting it, and as long as you work for it - another sharp increase in skill will happen. if you ask any of us how we did it, most of us would tell you the same thing: i just kept trying.

i have spent a lot of my life believing that just-surviving was the same thing as stagnating. i don't have any tangible goals or desires and the idea of making longterm plans makes me want to set my hair on fire. i am fucking tired. i don't want another year of scrambling, of falling down, of slipping in the mud. I love my friends, but i'm watching them settle down, have a life, get what they want: and i'm still here, in the part where i beg my life to be barely functional.

i think... maybe this whole time it wasn't standing still. it was still learning. it was still growing. i just got used to the plateau and forgot that "even surviving" isn't something i used to be able to take for granted. that in all this horrible, thankless effort - certain things are easy enough now. i can forget them.

i have spent so much time hating that i'm not getting better faster. i forgot that it used to be unthinkable to me to even consider recovery. these last years; i've been comparing my plateau to my eras of quick-discovery. i've been unfair to myself. no, the progress isn't as obvious. that doesn't mean it's not still-happening.

we make the mistake of saying "this year i want to live, not just survive," as if the effort of just surviving is useless, or could be shrugged off. the effort of surviving is beautiful. your years spent like barely-here are enough. you're not wasting time. you're not wasting your one precious life. "just holding on" means you were able to actually find and grab the rope. you're here; and the effort of your survival is work. you've been seeking the sky when it used to be impossible to imagine putting down roots. i know it is hard, and i hope you are able to feel better soon. i hope we both reach our next quick-climb. and i know - the weight might never ease up.

it's just that, over time, with effort: we will get strong enough.

[authoratmidnight]

Ok, I need to ramble about Transformers One. Cause it was just so good and I have thoughts.

I just don't know where to begin lol.

Cause it was just, so good!

Like, this seems like, the only time we get a full, proper backstory for what happened between Optimus Prime and Megatron to turn them from friends to enemies.

I'm only familiar with a couple of TF continuities (Prime, Animated-tho it's been a hot minute on that one- a smattering of comic stuff and the live action movies), and while they do bring up that OP and megs had a history, were even friends at one point, they never go into what happened to sour that friendship. What made Megs change, how did they end up on opposite sides of the war?

But TF One DOES! And it's GOOD!

AND IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE!

(under the cut for length)

I've seen a few people say that D-16 'went mad with power' or 'turned bad' the moment he got a T Cog but. He didn't. It wasn't hat tabrupt. If anything it can be summed up with one phrase.

"The straw that broke the camel's back."

Like. Put yourself in his boots. All your life you've been essentially the dregs of society, looked down upon b/c you were born without a crucial element of yourself. You work a generally thankless, extremely dangerous job. But, it's all worth it you think. You job is the backbone of your city, it's providing for the city and it's people until your protector and saviour can find the missing relic. You have hope that things will get better. You can bear it after all.

And then in one fell swoop your entire life and world view is upended. It was all a lie.

Your "protector" is a traitor, a murder, a liar. He killed your protectors (and your biggest hero), betrayed you to your enemies and is bowing to them. All the stuff you've been mining turns out to be going to your enemy. You haven't been helping your fellow citizens, you've been aiding the enemy. And then, the cherry on the shit sundae is to find out that he ALSO is responsible for you being "defective", as he (basically) mutilated your infant form, taking away what makes you you. You've followed the rules all your life. You've accepted your lot in life no matter how much it sucked.

And it was all a LIE.

That is one hell of a betrayal to be slammed on you all at once. SO yeah, the straw that broke the camel's back. Sometimes, people just fucking snap.

And then the camel got the power to actually fucking do something about it.

He didn't go mad with power or instantly go evil when he got a T Cog. He just finally had a way to DO something now. He didn't have to settle for being pushed around any more. Following the rules had gotten him this so, fuck them Fuck the rules man.

And the thing is, D-16 and Orion DID have the same goal in a way. They wanted to bring Sentinel to justice. They just had different ways to go about doing it.

Orion wanted to do it the "right" way, to expose him and have him stripped of his title/power and be tried for his crimes. He wanted to follow the logical route.

And D-16 just wanted revenge. He followed the emotional route.

"I want him dead"

Can you blame him? I don't. His anger is totally justified.

I wouldn't call that him 'suddenly going evil'. It was just the tipping point. After that moment he just slid off the deep end and kept spiraling downwards. If anything the 'gone evil' moment was when he looked at Orion and said "I'm done saving you". At that point it was to late. That was where D-16 died. (and one could argue that was the moment where Orion Pax died as well. b/c the bots that emerged from that fight were not D-16 and Orion Pax. It was Megatron and Optimus Prime)

But like, he didn't go mad with power. He was just on a revenge mission and now had the ability to DO that. And like, a revenge mission doesn't necessarily make someone evil (Inigo Montoya says hello)

And the thing is, they were both right imo.

Orion Pax was right, starting off your new society with an execution is proooobably not a good look (plus the whole debate on do you have the right to decide who lives and dies?). But like, D-16 was right that Sentinel needed to pay for his crimes and rotting in jail really seems like a slap on the wrist for what he did, for the betrayal and murder and lying and mutilation.

Also like. If he hadn't killed him, someone else would have. Someone else would have had the same mindset as D-16, that sitting in jail wasn't punishment enough for a life of betrayal and lies and would have found him an exacted their justice. If not D-16, then someone else.

It's just. It's so good man.

And how they basically switch their viewpoints as the story progresses. It starts out with Orion as the 'fuck the rules' sort of guy, he wants to do what he want, and D-16 as the by the book, follow the rules one. And as it goes on you see that changing. Orin wants to end this the right way, the proper way. And D-16 just throws the rules out the window b/c clearly those have gotten him nothing. And by the time they become Optimus Prime and Megatron, they've essentially switched viewpoints. Megatron has no care for the rules or laws, where as Optimus by comparison does.

Is Sentinel a basic ass villain? Yeah sure but lbr we're not here watching the movie for him. We're here for the doomed friendship between Orion and D-16, to see how they become Optimus and Megatron. That's what *I* was here for lol. So I don't really care if he's a basic ass bitch. Besides, he's dead by the end anyways so. Not enough to hamper my enjoyment of it.

And him being predictable as a villain isn't even a bad thing. Yeah, I clocked early one that he was sus (let's be real, anyone who has Airachnid as their right hand can't possibly be a good person lol), tho not exactly why he was sus. I had been leaning more towards either a) he HAD found the Matrix of Leadership and just didn't want to say he had/couldn't use it and/or was just fucking around up on the surface. But predictability isn't a bad thing (plus it seems like he has been used as an antagonist in previous incarnations so anyone familiar w/ the character would see it coming). There's no original tropes, so ofc it's gonna reuse known ones. And that's fine. He's the power hungry one here.

On that note, the inherent tragedy of the story. If you know anything about Transformers, then you're going into this movie knowing that, no matter how it ends there IS a tragedy to it. And if you don't know anything (yes, people like that exist) then you're unprepared for the tragedy that unfolds between the two leads.

Cause if you're not familiar w/ Transformers you're not likely to be expecting the two lead friends to end up split apart and on opposing factions by the end. Usually the leads end up making up by the end. But they don't. They can't.

And if you are familiar then you're just sitting, watching this friendship break apart and knowing that nothing could change this outcome. It was always going to end this way. And that's the tragedy of it.

On the technical side of things, it looks really really good! I think my favourite animations are the seemingly ever moving rock formations on the surface of Cybertron, the shimmering black rock that seems to grow and move across the land. Like daaaaaamn.

And I can't really complain about the voices. I think they work. Yeah it's not the og voice actor but like, it makes sense. This ISN'T Optimus and Megatron, it's Orion Pax and D-16. They're younger, smaller, they're different. So naturally they are gonna sound different. Plus it makes that gradual voice change into their voices all the more impactful.

I was however expecting to see Megatron rip out Bee's voice box during the big fight at the end to finally shut him up. Since that is a staple of Bee at this point. But he did not so I suppose that is being saved for another movie/story. Just to make us get more attached to Bee and his voice.

Oh and the movie is fucking hilarious and they balance the humour out really well imo.

Like I said. I fucking love this movie.

Also can we just, take a moment to acknowledge the fucking carnage in this PG rated movie??? Like, geezus, the number of characters that get brutally sliced up, blown up, losing limbs, stabbed/speared and of course, Sentinel getting literally ripped in half. But since there's no blood (and they aren't humans) it's totally fine and ok in a PG rated movie. Absolutely wild man. Movie was a damn blood bath in that final fight.

[villainessbian]

I don't think I'll ever get around to writing it but I had this idea of a book series where someone essentially visits AUs and tries to figure out their deal, like some sort of Ashitaka in Mononoke "seeing with eyes unclouded by hate" and essentially documenting what happens to the world under this or that system. They all have some degree of magic or they couldn't travel there, but all with different rules (and they can be soft or hard).

One such world had "fate's little workers" which is tiny fairies invisibly making prophecies come true, which is hard, thankless work, especially the "self-fulfilling" ones. They nudge little pebbles in place, whisper in people's dreams, and their morality is entirely different to ours. The traveller joins them and discovers just how fate secretly works.

Another had people sacrificing things for power, and it turned into essentially magical WMDs by manipulating people into giving away their consciousness and free will in exchange for fucking boom.

Another had people choose what their magic would be like by picking something to subvert during a coming-of-age ceremony, making power-blockers rather common as so many of them thought they were clever by choosing "subverting magic" as their thing. They literally got lessons about the effects of picking this or that.

One had boku no hero academia-like "quirks" but extremely specialised and low-powered, and society organised around the logistics of doing big stuff with small powers. It's harder to make people invent laser machines in the first place than it is to get one person who can make light, one person who can purify it, three who can amplify it, and one person who can angle it.

One I particularly like to think about was "gradual power incontinence for everyone." People made a wish for a power, had a sort of ritual to take on some magic, and then it just got stronger and stronger with time. Anyone whose wish was strength would eventually break themself. Anyone whose wish was flight would eventually zoom into space or too fast in a cliff face. Anyone whose wish was health or protection would gradually become nigh-invincible. They'd grow bigger and stronger until they would become literal hills, living centuries. Those who picked wisdom or insight became sages with time, imagine the level of insight Dominic Deegan gets with his second sight in the webcomic, but all the time, all the time. They become extremely respected figures because they might as well be playing 5d chess with time travel on anything you decide to do, but they also roam the world looking for goals you usually can't comprehend, maybe weeping at the beauty of a scene that will happen under that rock in 100 years or the majesty of whales that were here when this forest was an ocean. Both the wise sages and the unnaturally-old bruisers would get some special treatment, as people learn that their lot actually sucks and they get the "old-souls" tables in restaurants or taverns, comfy (and reinforced) chairs for those that have lived through more than anyone ever should - either by knowledge and cerebral ability growing super fast or by living through it. One scene I thought about a lot was a small village talking about a protector spirit, which was quite literally the small nearby mountain. When superpowered bandits attacked the town, it rose, fought them off, and defeated them, but because they also had the power creep disease thing, they killed it. After death, she reverted to the size and face of a 12 year old girl, but with white hair, because of the strain on her body that never grew but still got older. Buried at age however many hundreds of years in the recess left by the disappearance of a mountain, because she had once wished to be able to protect the people here. Just grew bigger, stronger, until all she could wear was sheets of soil and nature just... kept growing on top of her.

[journel]

sept 30 2023

i have logged into tumblr for the first time in a while, simply because i needed to verify my account since i haven't been on here in years.

today i read my only entry on here, dated in 2017.

i am now 24 years old. i learn every day.

i sit in the sun, go on long walks, obsess over sudoku, struggle to get work done, think and talk nonsense (both alone and with my lovely friends), and i study the world.

the inescapable issue of being alive, what once felt like a daily battle and a crushing reminder of an inconsequential existence, now animates and orients my life. i'm hesitant to say that quality this gave me a 'purpose', but in a sense, my desire to interrogate what life is has kept me going.

while that statement seems contradictory, it is precisely that which i am grateful for: the things that, at one point, made me want to die are what kept me alive.

yet, at the time i wrote my last entry, i was 18 years old- just 7 days into being an adult, recently graduated high school. i was reflecting (as i usually did at the time) on my existence.

prior to making that post, i had only known what i didn't want– it was the life i knew so far because i felt that was all there was.

i will fill you in on some context: i had lost friends, made new ones, and repeated that cycle over and over as i moved around 4 places. i was uncomfortable in my body, in that community, and in this world.

existence, for me, was dominated by terrible feelings and experiences, amid permeating, unsolvable questions.

i was 5 years old when i felt this for the first time. i stayed up late a lot, and one night i asked myself what 'nothingness' felt like. for a brief moment, i laid in bed and felt the weight of this; it was terrifying and liberating.

growing up religious, mostly in a small community (i'm queer, mixed-race, and a leftist, hello tumblr community), i felt uncomfortable, but i didn't know why. i was poor, my friends were usually rich.

my mom mostly raised me, and was constantly ruled by statistics on 'children raised by single mothers'- god forbid an immigrant mother on top of that! my, at one point, separated-but-still-living-together parents would fight often and intensely. my relationship with my 'sometimes' emotionally abusive father was, and remains, complicated.

my parents didn't know how i could be unhappy. i felt like i was betraying them, but it also felt like no one wanted to listen.

i did a lot of drugs, drank, and lived recklessly. somehow, i also put pressure on myself in nearly every aspect of my life, even though i felt like i didn't care about anything. still, it felt like people wanted that from me and i knew at the very least that i cared about people (just not myself). i had a jam-packed schedule and stayed up at night smoking weed and making (really sad) art.

i hurt myself a lot – i battered, kicked, squeezed, and sliced parts of myself that i hated – because i wanted to feel something else. i think i was working up the courage to get used to embracing the scary and desirable feeling of 'nothingness' again. in my head, none of the pain truly mattered because all of this would be meaningless soon.

at the risk of sounding thankless, i understood, and understand now, how this was animated by occasional joys– sharing ideas, making art, taking care of my dog, or long walks in the woods, for example, made me feel good. i chased that, but it was never adequate. it seemed like everyone else was doing better.

so, what i knew then beyond botched interpretations of theory, the feedback loop of pro-ana forums, nihilist posts, comedowns, and the complicated inner voice of depression and inadequacy was that i was a) confused, and b) going to be 'sad' forever.

to be fair, i wasn't wrong: i think i have existential depression. if you've been on tumblr much, i want to note that this is not a harmful regression via self-diagnosis. instead, i don't feel like it's something i have to fight or maintain. i accept it as a part of me.

an inkling of who i am today was present then, however it couldn't be apprehended; it stayed dormant in the back of my mind. what limited me was my inability to see it, to explore it, engender it, and live a life without fragmenting myself.

without neglecting how 18 year old me was probably a fully-formed and constituted person, i was everyone and i was no one. i continued being like this for a bit, and to be honest, i still find myself fighting that feeling today.

that 18-year-old version of me didn't know i would move to a new city in autumn, and that things, would in fact, get pretty bad. i was left to my own devices (not a good idea). today i see that as a valuable experience, and i fight the feeling that it was wasted time.

it's simultaneously educational, sad, and comical, but here's a brief list of things that happened after high school:

moved to a new city where i basically knew no one

proceeded to not meet anyone (except weirdos 2x my age)

got a job that was emotionally and physically exerting

used this alientation to my benefit

at the apex of my eating disorder, lost 30-40 lbs

took 4-5 different types of depression medications

was cold, sick, and tired 24/7

lost my closest high school friends in a dramatic and terrible way

crashed a car that didn't belong to me, lost all my money

wept often and intensely (didn't lose that)

moved back home after admitting defeat

went off my SNRIs cold turkey (bad withdrawals)

worked as a marketing coordinator (???) at a car dealership (???) in a small town (???)

after 2 years, made some of my money back

decided to apply for university

moved to another city (where i am now)

life didn't immediately get better; it would be cheating to say i woke up one day and it was amazing. i did do a lot of work to heal though, plus started a new career and met pretty great people (external validation actually helps a lot).

since i moved, i have also encountered a lot of genuinely shitty stuff, but i feel like i needed to repeat mistakes and really struggle to keep going and realize i could actually live. it was survival mode for so long.

i had a breakthrough the other day in therapy, where i realized that my eating disorder and my perfectionist mentality kind of took me out of that sedentary depression. it's contradictory, again, to say this, but its in these aspects of things, things that were literally killing me, that i could be alive.

the concoction i ended up with from these ~formative~ experiences– that is of, confusion (a lot of questions about the world, my existence, etc.) and the desire to change, to push myself, and to struggle– mix together to form a version of me that wants to live and, in being alive, upset the damage my younger self accrued.

i'm still building up the courage to say i am actually doing quite well now. it feels wrong to admit, because right now i want to hold that 18 year old version of myself and just listen to her. i do listen, she was onto something– she just didn't have the words yet. she also didn't know what 'recovery' could look like.

this world can be described as terrible, great, wicked, scary, fun, boring, and every other adjective created in it.

it is in this ambiguousness that i find a strange bit of solace.

i realize that i made the right decision sticking it out.

sometimes you hate yourself, and you wish you didn't have to fight so hard. i can admit that this is the way i feel now in my (multiplicitous) use of the word 'recovery', and say i am doing pretty good. it still feels strange to say that here.

life is messy, chaotic, complex. it can feel arbitrary and stupid, happy and sad, but that doesn't mean it has to be over.

[captain-kit-adventuress]

I'm reblogging this version solely because I don't want my point to get lost in people who "tl;dr" because they don't want to question their own points of view; that said, you can absolutely should access the sources here. (This is not to undercut you, @scientia-rex, becase you are doing a thankless job and I am taking this moment to thank you.)

However.

Though we do need to stop people from circulating the idea that exercise causes weight loss, or the idea that people even should lose weight, neither of those are the point.

The point: no one owes anyone, themselves included, a certain body type. That is an entire sentence. It does not need any qualifiers. I don't care if you want to come at me with "but their health!" No one owes anyone health, either. There is no point in which you can stigmatise and exclude and oppress fat people and still call yourself a good person at the end of the day. There is no body weight at which dehumanisation is acceptable. If you're thinking of a specific number, yes, I mean that number too.

Fat people do not owe anyone anything, and acting as though they do is not a progressive stance. Acting like it's in their best interest is also not a progressive stance. It's not humane, it's not kind, it's not compassionate. Telling people to not exist in the only body they have is an act of violence.

Fat people are people. Every single person who tries to qualify this, or push back against it, or even tries to concern troll, is showing themselves as unwilling to accept this basic premise. It honestly doesn't matter if anyone can lose weight or not, it doesn't matter if fat is genetically-coded or not, it doesn't even matter if we could "solve" it tomorrow, not a single bit of that actually matters. The bigger issue is that no one has to earn dignity or the right to exist. And if you disagree with that statement, well, it sounds like you've got some work to do, doesn't it?

I get it. So many people have worked so hard their entire lives to not be fat. We've deprived ourselves, and felt shit about ourselves, tortured ourselves with exercise we hated and foods we couldn't stand and kept ourselves from enjoying the full range of wonderful human experiences. We've willingly, and sometimes joyfully, participated in our own dehumanisation, to the point of chopping up perfectly functioning organs in an effort to not be fat. Because if you can't lose weight reliably and sustainably, then what was it all for? Wasting what short time we have to live by padding some billionaire's bottom line? That's a bleak thought, and a difficult one to sit with.

But it doesn't make it any less the truth. This is what we have done, and now, all I see is people taking it out on those who didn't have the luxury of being able to fit in. Weight loss doesn't matter. Body type doesn't matter. Anything else is simply giving in to the fear of knowing that we will all die some day, and blaming fat people because they seem like they don't care.

Life is hard for everyone, and it's not fat people that's making it that way. It's not BIPOC, it's not poor people, it's not anyone we've been taught to hate. It's hard because people who already have enough said we weren't allowed that, too. That only if we give them our minds and our bodies and our lives, they might allow us the privilege of surviving. That's it. That's the full long and the short of it. What's more, a lot of the anti-fat research is pointing to this, as well, but naming money as the problem does not, in fact, convince people to give you more money to study it. So here we are, anti-fat and parroting lies about weight loss and blaming the people who are working so hard to make sure we all get a fair shot.

Anti-fatness is an act of participating in your very own dehumanisation. Every time you comment on someone's food, even if it's just to yourself, or how an outfit isn't flattering on a certain body type, or even just say, "I just want them to be healthy, you know?" you're chipping away a little more at yourself, all for the benefit of people who wouldn't stoop to save you any more than they would the fat person on the plane next to you. It's just that fat people (and all marginalised people, but this is about the fats) have to be aware of that all the time, whereas you can comfortably pretend to forget.

You will die someday, too, and if you play into this system any longer, you will only hasten that day and have nothing to show for it except the total dehumanisation of others as your life's work.

Me: Exercise does not cause weight loss. This is a fact that has been demonstrated so robustly in research that even doctors, who hate and fear evidence, are grudgingly starting to admit this.

Someone reading that post: Cool, but have you considered that exercise leads to weight loss?

Me: I am going to eat you

[mymemoirs]

Yearly Reflection: A Letter Meant for 2024

In the beginning of 2022, I wrote about my yearly reflections on small thankless activities such as changing my bed sheets. I was thinking, what should I write in the beginning of the year since life proves to be mundane just like how I wrote in the posts.

But then again, the theme for that particular posts wasn't about life being mundane. It was about being grateful of things we find mundane. The smallest things in life.

However, this wasn't the case over the course of 2022. I realized I didn't have the tinge of gratefulness in my vein for what had happened over the past months. Gratitude weren't the theme of my 2022 and there were countless times where I would complain over the smallest things. I was too hung up on the future that I forgot to enjoy life at all.

Also one big problem is not being able to properly reflect over life. I was too anxious on thinking about realizing my goals when I don't even have a clear goals in life. I'm like a penguin frustrating over not being able to fly and go somewhere. I guess, I am that penguin who didn't know she's meant to be swimming to get somewhere and not flying.

I haven't made much time and energy to write and post lately. Comparing it to working which actually earns me money and other tasks which I had to do, I'm disregarding writing because I thought it wasn't a necessity for me. These days, I thought of writing as a life sucking activity when in fact it wasn't. While writing needs brain juice to actually makes sense, it does help me clear out the clouds in my mind. Instead, writing and other creative pursuits aim to heal and recharge the soul.

I realized that I've been lacking in passion lately and I would account it to not being able to pursue passion projects or any other creative projects. I thought that writing during my lowest time or during times when I'm stuck won't help since I don't have anything to give. However, writing is akin to taking a piece of ourselves and putting it out there (whether it's on a paper, blogs, vlogs, etc) and in turn you get a space where you could fill. Or maybe you could dig out new insights and perspective you never knew was possible coming from yourself. Writing actually have those wonders and I forgot about it last year.

----

People around me kept asking me on what's my next goal. I haven't had a clear goal yet, I only thought of taking a master's degree but till now, I haven't yet made any preparations or determine what to pursue for my master's degree. It's hard to admit that I have been too comfortable and I'm scared of change even when I promote change (for a better life) to everyone I meet. However, when it come down to myself, it's hard to face change head on.

Entering 2023, I'm more hopeful not to lead a mundane life anymore. At least, not a mundane mindset I held on during 2022. If I'm being honest, a lot of exciting things actually happened in 2022.

I had the opportunity to be sent to a business trip to Tangerang's office. Throughout 2022, I was able to travel thrice to Jakarta and meet friends, families, and new connections. However, having a mindset that keeps on complaining or being anxious of the future without doing any action is detrimental to the whole experience. Instead of focusing on the exciting and pleasant experiences, I focused too much on the negative spectrum.

That's why, I'll once again make time in 2023 for myself to thrive in my personal and creative pursuits. Let's come back again in 2024 and see how I fare.

For now, Happy New Year. Let's do our best for a year again.

-Reina.

[dearlordsanta]

Maybe it's a good thing...

I am currently on day ten of whatever illness I've contracted. This is the best I've felt in those ten days, at least physically speaking.

I've taken off more days from work during this illness than I have all year because I really needed the rest, which is good that I'm learning to disconnect. I'm a little irritated now that I am starting to feel a little better though.

When I woke up today, my husband rolled over and told me that the dog had peed on the edge of her potty tray, so a lot of it got on the floor. I asked if he cleaned it up and he said he hadn't because he didn't feel well. That bothered me. He's actually had a really good ten days, which lined up well because I was really sick, so when he told me that he hadn't cleaned up the pee off the bathroom floor. I got mad. In my head, I just kept saying, "sometimes being a wife is a thankless job". [I'm going to be circling back to this]

I cleaned up the bathroom in a little tiff because I still don't feel well and I'm annoyed that he let it sit all night instead of cleaning it up. When it sits that long, you can't really tell where the pee is, so you have to clean the whole floor. So, here I am, sick, cleaning the bathroom floor because he didn't do it because he didn't feel well. How is that fair?

He got up shortly after I was done cleaning and we hashed it out a bit. To his credit, I was being really rude, and he was staying calm and reasonable. Have you heard of those Reddit threads, AITJ? If you haven't, it stands for 'Am I the Jerk'. I was the jerk here. Because he was doing well these last ten days, he offered to do everything I asked him to do. He said, "tell me what you need me to do, and I'll do it". He pointed out today that I never asked him to do anything. I think it's because I didn't trust or believe that he would. So, now I'm the jerk....again.

Circling back to the "thankless job" piece. After talking things out with my husband, realizing that I was being irrational and angry over my own shortcomings, I sat down to write it out. I am remembering growing up and hearing parents, specifically moms, saying that being a mom is a thankless job. When I remembered that, I started thinking that maybe that's why I don't get to be a mom. I've wanted to be one for as long as I can remember, but maybe I would just suck at it. So, fate found a way for me to not be one. I am happily married, but my spouse is chronically ill and if we had kids, he would not be able to be as involved as much as he'd like and I would still be the only one working, plus I'd be having to pick up all the slack of, essentially, being a single parent when he's too ill to be able to help.

So, now I feel like crap because I am the jerk, I would probably be a horrible mom, and I've still got the tail end of this sickness to deal with. On top of everything else, I don't even want to go into right now because a lot of it is just rehashing things that I've already talked about like, needing to move, but not being able to move.

So, I'll just end here. I think I deserve to be miserable for a bit.

[quickdeaths]

Yup, she was definitely a lively sort of person, Yi-Chun thought as Ruby scurried over to her with the other girls in her group behind. "Hi," she answered with a big smile, waving to the trio as they came up to her. All things being equal, Yi-Chun herself was a pretty excitable person, but she definitely couldn't match the younger girl's energy. In that kind of situation, wasn't it better to be a little more laid-back? Answering all those questions so quickly would be difficult, so it was easier to take it slow.

As the girl started introducing her friends, a small laugh escaped the lips of the veteran idol. "I appreciate the introduction," she affirmed with a nod, "but you didn't actually introduce yourself earlier." Holding up her KingBlade, she clicked it to the warm red color. "So it would be good if I could think of your name, instead of just 'B-Komachi Red.'" Although, that kind of catchy nickname could work in the right group. Yi-Chun remembered a group back home that all just went by their image colors, rather than their names, and it had been pretty cute.

Though, reminiscing about that at the same time as Ruby described her as someone who was a Taiwanese idol, past tense, was a recipe for a slightly stinging pain in her chest. Even so, Yi-Chun wasn't the sort of person to give up or take disappointment harshly, and instead kept smiling. "I don't watch a lot of Youtube, so sorry, I'm not familiar with you, but you must be doing something right, if you have so many fans already," she said towards MEM-Cho. Then, she turned to Kana. "And, succeeding as an idol is often hard, thankless work, so it's rare to see someone trying to cross over from another industry. It takes a lot of courage to try, and if you're new at this, it's even more impressive than I thought."

Naturally a supportive person, it came easily to her to find something nice to say about both of them. Professionally, there were all kinds of things she could have pointed out - their silhouette work was a little weak, and the backing vocals were thin - but why deflate their bubbly, positive attitudes with criticism, even if it came from a kind place? "And as for you," she said, looking back to Ruby after delivering her praise for the others. "You're already good at the most important thing for an idol - making people want to watch you with a smile."

Definitely, that was it. Some people were too pragmatic, thinking that singing and dancing were all that mattered, and some were too cynical and said that idol work was just selling a fiction of GFE, so not much mattered beyond that. To Yi-Chun, though, the most important thing was connecting with the audience. There were a lot of ways to do that, involving all kinds of different skills, but the most important thing was to find a way that any individual idol could make that connection. With Ruby, it was that smile, those shining eyes, the totally joyful way she seemed to be feeling at every moment.

"You guys were good," she added. "I liked your songs, and it seemed like the audience got pretty into it by the end." First impressions were important, but it was better to think in terms of how the audience felt at the end of a show, and it seemed like B-Komachi had won most people over. "My advice to you, though," she started, directing it mostly towards Ruby, but to the other as well, "is to not worry too much about mistakes right now." Tapping at her cheek with a hum, thinking of all the ups and downs of her own career made Yi-Chun a little nostalgic. "When you're more established, right after a show is the best time to reflect, 'cause you're closest to any mistakes you made. When you're starting out, though, you should just enjoy the feeling. You can look back on things and iron stuff out tomorrow!"

Ruby realized that Yi-Chun was about to ask her something when she was halfway to the dressing room, she turned to see the idol, but she was already walking in the other way. In her mind she made a note to remember to ask her about it after the presentation, she hoped it wasn’t something too important.

All the way to meet with her group, Ruby couldn’t do anything but think about her conversation, especially the part about performing together in the same event. That was something that was definitely going to happen, sooner or later, someone would realize that they were missing a lot of opportunities by not having Yi-Chun. People in this industry could sometimes be so blind!

But then an idea occurred to her. Something even better. Performing together. A presentation with one of the idols she once looked up to. That would be one of the biggest achievements she could have. When she was a child, she dreamed of Ai and her performing together, just a mother-and-daughter presentation.

…of course, life happened, and that was a dream that could never come true. But dreams didn’t disappear, they just changed, and performing with Yi-Chun sounded like something fantastic. Just imagine! The two of them rehearsing together, singing songs that were a mix of Japanese and Taiwanese, dancing, and making people cheer them up! Making them fall in love with their music! It really sounded like a complete dream come true.

But for that, she would need to improve and become better and better, so good that people wanted her to perform with someone as talented as Yi-Chun. Luckily for her, she didn't plan on quitting for a long long time, she would become the best idol in Japan and would definitely perform on a dome because if there existed something as destiny, hers was being an idol.

And today she was going to show it to everyone.

She first encountered Kana, they had a little talk about not fearing failure, both of them were amateurs in this, of course it wasn’t going to be perfect. And she didn’t expect it to be, just to have fun and make people smile was enough. After that, they went together to get dressed and have their make-up with MEM, shortly after they finished, Miyako wished them good luck and they went into the stage.

Once the performance started, everything was like living a dream. Suddenly, all her fears vanished and she knew exactly what to do, her body moved following the steps of the choreography, she just knew which were the lyrics of the songs and what to say to make people cheer more. A lot of people attended, and most of them knew the lyrics, but what impressed her more was that there was a decent amount of people waving a red bar, more than she expected.

And of course, there was also her brother, who embarrassed himself waving the three bars with the most serious expression one could have.

When the presentation ended, Ruby couldn’t remember a moment when she smiled more.

MEM, Kana, and Ruby went to change clothes after the presentation ended and then went to the waiting area, she had already spoken to Miyako and she had no problem with her staying to see the presentation of Star5Shine, thou Kana and MEM wouldn’t be accompanying her because they wanted to rest.

While she was seeing the presentation, Miyako would take the girls and Aqua home and then come to pick Ruby up, so they were waiting for her arrival when she suddenly glanced at a familiar figure.

“Yi-Chun!” she said making a gesture to the girls to follow her “Come! I will introduce you to her!”

She ran to the idol with her friends following near, once Yi-Chun saw her, Ruby began to talk fastly and brightly. With all the mass of people, she hadn't been able to see her during the presentation, but she hoped she would have gone.

“Yi-Chun! Hey!” she jumped excitedly “Did you see us? What did you think? Was it good? Bad? I think the second verse of Sing wa B could be a little better… but what were your thoughts?”

Kana jabbed her elbow into Ruby's ribs. Oh right, introductions. Manners, Ruby!

“Right, right, Yi-Chun, these are my friends, MEM-Cho, you might have seen her on youtube, and Arima Kana, the child actor that can lick soda within ten seconds” Kana glared at her, causing Ruby to laugh “Kana, Mem, this is Yi-Chun, she was a Taiwanese idol and now is the choreographer of the group I am going to see later!”

The girls introduced themselves, MEM with brightness and Kana in a more chill-mannered way, but not with disrespect. When the presentation ended, Ruby started to talk again.

“So, what did you think?” she said with a bright smile, unable to wait a second longer to hear her opinion.

[babylooneytoonz]

protector

Geralt of Rivia x fem!reader

Summary: Set in episode three of the Witcher where Geralt goes to Temeria to take down the striga, and reader is his companion, and his friend, although Geralt never admits it. Requested by @dashingcavill [ hope you like it, my love.🤍]

When Geralt and the reader are each other's silent protectors, what else do they need? Although they don't admit having each other is the best thing that has happened to them.

warnings: Geralt is a soft, big bear with a heart that is full of love, only he doesn't like admitting it. **I tried to add fluff, I really did. • [My Masterlist]

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost, copy or claim my work as yours.

"No."

"No? You do realize I'm still going to follow you, right?" You blinked, running a hand through your messy hair, only to let your fingers get entangled into them, making you groan silently. As if the broody Witcher wasn't enough for you to be able to handle, add the rustling winds into the picture and your hair were already resembling a hen's nest.

"I can handle it," Geralt grumbled under his breath, his baritone deep and low.

You shook your head, more at the obvious stubbornness of the white haired man next to you, making you pause for a moment. It was only when you looked up, you realized that Geralt had kept walking, and was now, almost ten steps ahead of you. You muttered a resolute curse under your breath, as you picked up pace and darted after your companion of fifty two days, to be exact.

"You're thankless, Witcher. I saved your ass a dozen times too," you huffed, finally catching up to him, as you grabbed the edge of his armour to try and slow him down but he didn't, "What makes you think you can take that thing down alone?"

Geralt craned his neck slightly to give you a look but he did not utter a word. Instead, you were greeted by his monotonous grunt and you gave him a coy smile,"I know what you're thinking, Witcher. Can I say it?"

He raised an eyebrow, almost and regarded you for a second through his golden orbs before he turned his face back towards the direction he was walking towards, muttering under his breath, "Will you not say it if I say no?"

You shook your head, almost like a twelve year old trapped in a body of a twenty five year old, "Not really. Now can I say it?"

Geralt groaned in fake annoyance, kicking a pebble that he spotted on the ground, a hint of a smirk breaking out against his lips, that he knew you couldn't see as you weren't really paying attention.

"Well you must be thinking," you suddenly changed your voice into a lower note, almost making yourself a fake Geralt baritone, "I should have let her be eaten by the wyvern. Why the hell did I save her life? Now she is stuck to me like gum."

Geralt's lips twitched, and he couldn't help but look down and shake his head, "Hm."

"You weren't."

"Do you ever stop talking?"

You did that thing with your lips, pushing your upper lip upwards in retaliation to his words, and Geralt just took a deep breath and he turned away from you, a faint smile still draped over his lips, the smile only dropping when the castle was finally in sight.

"Stay out here."

"But I told you—"

Geralt raised his palm in the air, in front of you before you could fight him on this. He had already made up his mind, he wasn't going to put you at risk. He knew you were skilled, and he knew your father had always wanted a son, a son who could fight a battle, yield a sword, and spill blood. But he had instead gotten you. He taught you all those things though, skilling you in his to hold a sword, and just how to use a sword to silence the enemy, and you were pretty good at it.

However whatever it was, lurking inside the castle was something Geralt never wanted you to face. Maybe it was fear, a fear of losing you to whatever the hell it was, and an ounce of doubt on himself, the what ifs, what if he couldn't keep you from harm's way and what if something happened to you.

"I'm coming with you," you announced, only to receive an animalistic growl from the Witcher. "It's daylight, and that thing doesn't usually attack during the day. I should be safe. Besides, you need my help, because although you do excel in bodily strength, you're in an obvious lack of brains."

"I should have left you with that wyvern," Geralt spat, a hint of an amusement calling out of his tone as he began walking into the castle and you followed.

The structure was exactly like you had expected it to be, dirty and dinghy, cobwebs dangling everywhere, and it was difficult to breath, but you didn't complain as you followed the Witcher around, from one room to another, investigating. The hallways were dark, dinghy and you could smell the death, even without the Witcher's sense of hearing, making you wonder for a split second, what Geralt was actually feeling. He was walking next to you, his eyes fixed on the surroundings while you were looking at the dried blood trails that decorated the floor of the hallway. In one corner, you spotted a decaying head of a human being, and something churned inside your gut, forcing you to look away.

"You can still leave," his loud voice ensnared towards you, and you involuntarily grabbed the fabric of your sleeves, curling them into your fingers, shaking your head.

"This really doesn't scare me, Wolf. It will take a lot more than that to actually scare me," you lied through your lips. Who were you kidding, he could feel the racing of your heart, and the signs that you were actually afraid, of the unknown, unlike him but he also knew that you were the most stubborn woman he had come across, and although he never admitted; this was one of the things he had grown to like about you, that, and the fact that your mouth was the exact opposite of his, something that never stopped moving. Your talkativeness was refreshing to him, and he could keep listening to your useless banter for hours and not get bored with it. Not that he would ever openly admit that to you.

You looked at the massive portrait that hung from the wall, of Adda and Foltest, when they were children and you couldn't help but let thousands of thoughts fly through your mind. A lot didn't make sense at the back of your mind, but everything to you pointed towards Foltest being the father of the striga, a concern that you had already vouched to Geralt, and he did seem to agree.

The sound of Geralt kicking open a door pulled you out of your trance and you quickly entered Adda's bedroom after him, eyeing the state of unrest the room was in. The chandelier lay fallen on the floor, shards of glass broken and decorating the floor. The bed was unkempt, the sheets slept in, and musty.

You noticed Geralt stiffen when he saw the bed. You bit your lip, moving to the cabinet, running your hand along the dust coated surface of it when Geralt took a deep breath, and you understood what he was doing. You immediately turned, taking long steps towards him and you grabbed the leather of his sleeve, pulling him to turn towards you, your eyes searching for answers in his face, "You found out. You smelled it. What did you find?"

Geralt pursed his lips together, as he looked down at you, "Ostrit. I smell him in the sheets." You were startled by the revelation, your eyes almost popping out as you looked at the bed and blinked, the bits and pieces coming together in your mind. Of course.

You turned towards Geralt, your lips tugging upwards, "Not a pretty picture in your mind I suppose?"

"I never thought I'd ever have to picture his ass in the back of my mind," he looked at you, his voice gravelly, his baritone thick but you could sense the jest in his voice.

Anxiety was not a pretty picture, especially not when you couldn't keep your mind off Geralt. He had forcibly left you at the tavern, and although you had a massive pitcher of ale to drown in, you couldn't stop worrying about the big man, your palm laying flat against the table, your fingers tapping against the wood in nervousness and anxiousness.

Geralt's warning words still rang through your mind when he had asked you to stay here, and not step out of the tavern until he came back. In fact, what had made you angry at him as he left, you fuming from the inside that he had actually had the audacity to slip in some coins to the owner of the tavern, just to have eyes on you, so you didn't sneak out.

What you hadn't told the Witcher and neither did you plan on telling him was the fact that you had watched him die in your nightmare, just a few night back, and it was still haunting you, deep inside, no matter how hard you tried to shove the thoughts away from your brain, drowning yourself in ale. A lingering question was eating you up, what if your nightmare was actually a premonition? What if this was destiny's way of telling you something? What if something was going to happen to the White Wolf tonight? The striga, after all, did kill the other Witcher. How were you so sure she wouldn't overpower Geralt?

That's it, you slammed your palm against the table, almost knocking off the half empty pitcher. You grabbed it, and brought it up to your lips, chugging the contents of it all, like a man, until you slammed it back against the table. You stood up, pinching your nose as you confidently walked up to the owner of the tavern.

"How much coin did the Witcher pay you for keeping me trapped in here? What if I pay you double?"

The bald headed man looked at you, his gaze flicking to the pouch of your coins as you tossed it up and down in the air, the rattle of the coins echoing through his ears, making him lick his lips.

"Give me a ten, and run out of the back, not the front," he hissed, in a low voice.

"Good man," you smiled, as you loosened the noose of the pouch, pulling out a fistful of coins, that were in fact, more than ten, but you still laid them down on the counter, and the man hungrily placed both his hands on it, dragging them away from you. You winked at him, running a hand through your hair, as you turned around and started running towards the back, thinking how jealousy could be your downfall. A fist on the jaw from the Witcher, and all that coin would be used for fixing up his damn face.

A trail of blood leaked down his temple, the back of his head lay against the flooring as the striga climbed on top of him, her hollow, toothy mouth flared open as bits of drool fell on his face. The cursed being let out a shrill screech, her clawed hands grabbing the Witcher's armour as she lifted him up and slammed him hard against the floor again, and Geralt's sword fell from his hand, sliding inches away.

"I swear if you die on me, Witcher, I will never forgive you," you cursed under your breath, your sleeved palm wiping the base of your neck as sweat dripped down your chin, drop by drop. You were panting, gasping from air, your legs almost beginning to give away but you dared not stop, until you finally reached the castle. You began running up the front, when a loud, eerie screech resonated from somewhere inside and you were forced to draw out your sword.

"I swear I will never get bored of saving your ass, Geralt of Rivia," you spat as you ran inside, jumping over a half eaten arm of an unlucky man right at the entrance.

Geralt's eyes locked on yours, and he gave you a look that warned you of anything but happiness. He pursed his lips, his fists clenching as he began taking a step towards you. That's when you saw the thing, it was dangling from the wall, just above him.

"Geralt, look behind you!" You screamed loudly, throwing out your pointy finger towards the air but before he could, the striga pounced on him, making him land on the floor, on top of you, his face pressed between the valley of your breasts. If you weren't going to get killed, any time sooner, Geralt would have appreciated the dark humour that escaped your lips, the striga looking right into your eyes.

"What better way to die than a man's face pressed to my breasts— Aaaahhhh fuck.."

The striga's knee pressed down hard against your shoulder and you swore you felt a crack of a bone or two as her monstrous hands came to rest on your throat. Her fingers slowly began squeezing the life out of you, your eyeballs almost bobbing out as you coughed, trying to gasp for air. Geralt tries to push himself as much as he could, his arm outstretched so he could grab your sword. "G-Geralt.. Ger.." Your vision was turning black, your mind already swimming in pain and confusion, owing to the pain in your shoulder, and the cut off of oxygen supply from your body.

His fingers finally reached the hilt of your sword, clasping against it. Fixing himself up on one of his elbows, as much as the creature on top of him allowed him to move, he struck the side of the striga's face with the hilt, the force being enough to knock her off for a bit disorienting her.

Geralt jumped up to his feet as he bent and slid his arms underneath your thigh, lifting you up into his arms as he charged towards the stone coffin like structure that lay in the center of the hall. Upon reaching it, he threw you inside like a sack of grain, without showing a tiny ounce of compassion or gentleness. You couldn't blame him though as the Striga was already charging in your direction now having recovered from Geralt's blow.

Geralt jumped into the structure just after you, and before the striga could get to the two of you, Geralt had managed to successfully move the slab over the top, covering the two of you up. He also secured it using a sign he made, an added protection so the Striga couldn't try and open it, even though she wanted to do it.

A breath escaped your lips. You could hear the cursed being screeching outside, as she tried to claw through the stone slab, trying to get it to open, but it didn't work. The pain in your shoulder was unbearable and the inside of the structure was cramped, and with the Witcher's heavy, bulky frame on top of you, it was hard to breathe. Yet, you were content.

Geralt didn't say anything for a few seconds, but his forehead rested against your other shoulder. You could feel the rise and the fall of his chest, and you could sense that his elbow was resting next to your head, as he struggled to keep the weight of his body as light as though afraid to crush you. You noted this soft gesture and you wanted to smile, but you couldn't, not when the throbbing of your shoulder was making tears prick into your eyes.

A few seconds turned to minutes, and Geralt's frown widened as he noticed how silent you were. You silence now being deafening to him as the screech now died down, making him assume that the Striga had given up on trying to pry open the structure and was now waiting for them to open up. Finally, the adrenaline turned into anger and Geralt's nostrils flared. He slammed his fisted palm into the stone next to your head but you didn't even wince,"Now you decide to stay quiet. I told you not to come."

You let out a warm gush of air from your lips, hitting Geralt right against his neck. He sighed, fluttering his lashes a little. He knew there was no point in arguing with you for you were a stubborn one.

"Funny, I lost the coin," he added, in a dry tone, trying his level best to lighten up. If the two of you were to stay stuck inside for a few more hours now then why not make a use of it? Although Geralt had never thought he would see a day when he would be the one trying to coax words out of your lips.

His frown widened and he sniffed lightly, and the more he concentrated, it didn't take him long to realize the metallic copper smell, that was almost too strong for his liking— the smell of blood. He tried to move adjust himself better so he could look down at you, and as he inclined himself, more towards your left shoulder, the smell worsened.

"Fuck, [Y/N]?" His otherwise low pitched, serious voice suddenly clouded with a sliver of worry, his hand came to rest against your forehead as two fingers swiped over your sweat drenched face. His fingers slid down to the side of your neck, and he felt your pulse and a sudden alarm fled him up. You had a pulse, but he could barely feel it, and the sound of your heartbeat was much lower than usual."Fuck, fuck, fucking — where did she get you?"

"I'm... Fine .." You tried, but the sound of your teeth now chattering was an enough signal for him to know you were blatantly lying to him. Gently, he placed his palm over your injured shoulder only to jerk his hand back as you let out a scream of agony. Now he could smell and feel the wetness on his hand where he had touched you. That's when he realized that the impact of the striga's knee had dislodged your bone, that had pierced through your skin as was now protruding, and you seemed to have soaked through your leather shirt.

He growled, and placed his hands on the slab above you, and slowly began moving it. You reached out, placing your hand on his wrist.

"D-don't, Geralt, w-what are you doing?" You whispered.

"Killing that thing and getting you out of here."

"No, close that damn," you coughed, "slab, Geralt. All these efforts.. to.. to lift that fucking curse.. and you're.. you're going to kill her .. for what?"

Although he pulled it shut again, his frown was deep and lasting.

"I'm not going to let you die, even though you are stupid enough to walk yourself into a death trap."

You laughed, coughing and wincing at the same time as the movement caused the pain to flare again, making you still once more, "You're daft for a Witcher. I'm not.. dying. I'm conserving my energy.. a broken shoulder doesn't kill people."

His eyebrows almost flew upwards. You amazed him at times. Out of all the times you had been sassy with him, this was probably going to be the most memorable one for him.

When he didn't reply, you slowly let your uninjured hand travel through the cramped space up to his face, and you placed your fingers lightly against his jaw, tracing the outline of it. He blinking, glancing down at your fingers for a bit before looking back at you. His own fingers slowly, reluctantly traveled to the side of your face, as he began cupping your jaw, "Geralt, I'm not dying so soon. You think.. you're gonna get rid of me.. you're wrong."

He released a sound straight from his lungs; something between a growl and a snort, perhaps a mix of both as he let his head rest against you. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, and you were about to flutter your heavy eyelids shut when you heard his low voice, "Don't you fucking die on me."

"I'm cold, Geralt.." you whispered suddenly, and he propped himself up again on his elbow, "but you.. you're so warm. Like the sun."

He smiled, sadly, his thumb toying with the side of your cheek.

Geralt knew it wouldn't be long now before the rooster crowed three times and the sun would rise up, and the curse would be broken. He only begged, to anything or anyone that was listening to him, to give you the strength to hold on for a little longer. It was then he realized that you had dozed off.

You woke up with a shudder, and your body still hurt, even with every breath you took. The sun was now shining over your face and you realized that the slab above you was open, and Geralt wasn't anywhere beside you.

Slowly, you wiggled yourself slightly, but the pain in your shoulder made you bite down on your lip. You shook your head, and looked around, and your eyes fell on the bloody shirt fabric that was hanging loosely from your shoulder where your bone had ripped you. You pried the fabric off and fisted it into a ball stuffing it into your mouth so you didn't scream. You sat up, tears streaming down your eyes as you screamed into the cloth.

Geralt heard your screaming. He was kneeling down by the girl, now the curse having been lifted as he studied her face but at the sound of your scream, he jumped up to his legs and ran towards the structure, finding you seated, your shoulder red like cherry and a bone visibly popped out.

"Come on," he commanded, but he didn't let you stand up. Instead, he dived his beefy arm underneath your thigh and lifted you up effortlessly as he carried you out of the castle.

"What about her, Geralt?" You whispered.

"She is fine, someone will come for her."

You woke up in a castle, but this one was much different from the other one. Your eyes fell on your shoulder, and you realized that your shoulder had been dressed, the bone probably pushed back into its original place. Slowly, you craned your neck to see an older woman, definitely a healer for you could see all sorts of herbs stacked on the walls in jars.

When you asked her about what had happened, she told you how Geralt of Rivia had brought you to her. She told you how you had been in and out of a drugged sleep for almost four days now.

When you asked him where he was, she informed you that he was at the tavern, and you were free to leave although she did recommend you taking it easy and not embarking on tiresome journeys as your wound was still raw, and healing.

Pulling a shawl made of raw wool tighter around your shoulder, to keep it and yourself warm, you reached the tavern, immediately spotting the tall man from the back of his long white hair. He had his palm drawn towards the tavern owner who was trembling and placing coins one by one back into his palm.

"What's going on here?"

You gave him a lopsided grin, as he turned at the sound of your voice, and his lips twitched slightly. He eyed you carefully, his eyes lingering on your wounded shoulder for longer before he turned away his attention back on the owner, "Just getting what is mine."

"Can we leave this wretched place? We have had too much of a drama, and I really need to forget. Besides, the healer gave me a clear pass to travel, before you ask."

He smiled, bringing the pitcher of ale that he was drinking, up to his lips, and you saw his Adams apple move as he swallowed a mouthful. You groaned, grabbing the pitcher from his hand, and prying it away, throwing it up to your lips and chugging it all down, not leaving a single drop of ale for him.

"You witch, I should have never taken your cursed coin." The owner suddenly began, his beefy finger pointing to you.

You were met with a cracking noise and you couldn't help but give a smile of content when you saw Geralt's fist collide with the owner's jaw, making him topple backwards. "Want your coin?" Geralt asked you, his eyebrow raised in amusement and you smirked, shaking your head, "Nah, let it be. He will need all the coin to get that jaw treated. Though, I expected a better punch from you."

Though Geralt's lips were pressed in a firm line, the edges of it were drawn upwards as the two of you stepped out of the tavern. His heart sighed with relief and it was refreshing fir him to hear your voice again. He didn't want you to stop speaking, although he didn't say it out loud.

After a few minutes of a slow walk, you reached the stables and Geralt brought Roach out.

"Geralt? Will you let me ride her?"

He always said no. If there was anything Geralt didn't let you do, it was riding Roach. And so far, you were okay with it.

"Come here." He suddenly said, tapping on the mare's side, and your jaw dropped.

"what?"

"Come before I change my mind."

If you could have run towards him, you would have. If he could have lifted you up in his arms, he would have. All these would haves, but those really didn't really happen. What actually happened when you reached Roach's side, ready to lift yourself up on her, Geralt suddenly turned you towards him, and pressed you against the mare's side, his lips pressed to yours.

The kiss lasted only ten seconds, but you found yourself licking your lips when he broke it, tasting Geralt on you. He was smirking as he didn't say a word.

"What was that for?" You asked, licking your lips.

"For trying to get killed," he grumbled under his breath.

"You could have said, for trying to save my life. You're welcome, Witcher."

He only gave you an amused smirk, helping you get on the mare and took its reins as he started walking with it. You looked down at him, and blinked, giving him a smile and he raised his brow, his own lips turned upwards, "What?"

"Will you let me sleep in your tent now?" You bit your lip.

"Hm, only if you promise not to snore."

Henry Cavill All Characters Taglist:

@bitchynicole @libbymouse @petitefirecracker10 @naughty-koala07 @maan24 @pterodactylterrace

Want to be added to my Henry Cavill All Characters Masterlist? Please let me know via my ask box, DM or a comment. ✨

[margridarnauds]

i think you seem very intelligent and i enjoy reading your posts about celtic studies. that field strikes me as uniquely thankless (which i hope doesn't sound like a huge drag, it just seems both overwhelming and underappreciated) so your commitment to it is to be admired!

I got this about a month ago and I kept putting off responding to it because I honestly spent a good few minutes flailing when I got it. Thank you, Anon, and I hope that you're able to see I got it even after a month.

When I first got it, I wanted to say something about how we tend to focus on the negatives, how my second year of my PhD is much better than the first, that things have improved so much and that, really, it isn't that bad....then things tanked pretty much overnight and I'm at a level of disillusionment that I don't think I've ever been in. I'm not sure if I have a place in the field and, to be frank, I'm not sure if I want one even if there is. I'm tired of the backstabbing, I'm tired of the passive aggression, I'm tired of knowing so much dirt on so many people in the field and not being able to say anything, I'm tired of seeing burnout and being overworked treated as the norm because, after all, they're just preparing us for the world of academia. We don't get weekends. Our third years in particular are ridiculously overworked (next year for me: yay.) My work doesn't get respect in my own department, I don't get respect in my own department, I'm mainly convenient as a pet or a mascot more than a colleague and the second I try to act like a colleague, I'm smacked down. I feel more at ease in conferences that take place thousands of miles away than in my own home department, how is that right? I've had senior scholars who are known to be cantankerous and abrasive be kinder to me and my work than people who only entered the program a couple of years before me. Why? Now, I don't have any family who entered academia, unlike a number of academics, but my impression was that the ones who should have a student's back the most are their own department. Why have I had to rely on my friends in other departments to be my emotional support instead of the people who know, better than anyone, what it's like to be in this program? And even abroad, I see senior scholars kicking down grad students on Twitter, I see entire schools of thought in the field being used as cheap punching bags, I see so much casual homophobia, transphobia, and sexism that's politely disguised (because the problem's always been in being openly bigoted, so you make your bigotry polite and scholarly and you're grand), I see some departments waging harassment campaigns against other departments for...what? Why? What did they do? And I wonder "how did we get to this point?" Were we so focused on creating great scholars that we forgot to create great colleagues? Or even just good people?" Yeah, they learn multiple languages, both medieval and modern, but can they talk to the people around them without tearing them down? Does something just die when you stay in the field long enough? I'm not sure that it's possible to stay and be a good person -- I think a lot of people either become numb and decide that it's normal or stay with the idea that they can change it, but can we really change it? At the moment, I'm just a ball of quiet, impotent rage; I refuse to do to a grad student what was done to me -- I refuse. And I don't know whether just being nice is enough when so many of these problems are part of the wider structural problems with academia -- by staying on, even if you just want to support the grad students and the undergrads, are you just playing into the system more?

And I'm just. Supposed to smile and accept it. Support my department in public for the sake of PR, even though we all know it's a joke.

And the sad thing is I know it can be better. I had that. I'm not saying it was always perfect or there were never times where I was depressed or sad -- it was tough to be an international student for the first time, especially during the early stages of the pandemic -- but I'm saying that I know what it was like to have a genuinely supportive atmosphere, enough so that I mistakenly thought it was the norm. I don't know what happened here, but there is some deep rot in this department that got there before I did, and it's a microcosm of the rot that exists in the field. And there are good people here, there are people who want to make the department a better place, but that's useless when that rot is so accepted and so normalized. It's more a case of trauma bonding than anything at this point. And I'm trying, as best as I can, to protect the ones who are coming after me even though I know that the cycle never really ends. I know of so many young Celtic Studies grad students who have actively told me that they're not looking to stay around -- grab the PhD and run. At first, I thought that they weren't prioritizing their careers properly, that relationships and love fade away but a career, tenure will be there for you, the work we do is important and will last for decades after we're gone if we do it right -- I was going to be the exception, I was going to be the ambitious one, I was going to be the Girlboss Academic who was going to kick ass and take names because I was just that smart and that badass...now I realize, at 25, what I didn't realize what I was 20, and that's that it's all castles in the air. If you have the chance for love, the chance for family, and you're forced to choose between this and that...why wouldn't you choose them?

And now I'm just here wondering whether I ever really want to so much as write another word in a Celtic Studies article again, or whether I want to go back on campus. I was actually grateful on Friday that I had Latin class because that was on a different place on campus -- I didn't have to go back to our headquarters or interact with anyone. I don't want them to have my work, I don't want them to see it, I don't want my name to be associated with my department's if and when I publish it because it isn't theirs and, when it gets done, it's going to be done without them. I will actively look out for conferences where people in my department are least likely to submit to (because I want to believe that there'll come a time when I want to write papers again), just so they don't get to see my work because, as far as I'm concerned, they've lost the right to it. For years, the one thing that kept me on, more than anything else, was my unending love of my material and my love of the field. They managed to numb me to that. Like, when I think of my favorite texts at the moment, there's just this...numbness. With a twinge of just...despair. But not that....happiness that there should be. I'm working on Middle Welsh translation work so I don't look at Old Irish -- it's still more Celtic than I'd like, but I can't risk nuking my entire week just because I'm pissed and hurt. (A part of me's still tempted to come down with a cold on Monday -- I've never skipped a day in my entire college career, but desperate times, desperate measures.)

And, frankly, I know there's a medium possibility that at least some of them will see this, because I'm not allowed the luxury of anonymity, and I don't particularly care because, frankly, what are they going to do? Chew me out in front of the whole department? Say I'm not being scholarly or collegial? Oh, wait, that's already happened. (Maybe if they do see this, they'll go through my source list for the Mythological Cycle and realize I do, every once in a while, know what I'm talking about with regards to my own specialty, shockingly enough.) Kick me out, thus threatening me with a good time? All that happens is I go from one lifelong abusive situation to another one, albeit without getting paid to endure it, but at least I get my dogs. And they need me, still. They need the cheap teaching fodder in a couple years' time, just like they need someone to run conferences for them. So, they might not want me there and I might not want me there, but if I have to deal with them, they have to deal with me as well.

All I can say is that if I was really as weak as they think I was (or if I'd just had the money to say 'no'), I'd have left within my first month here and I wouldn't have been wrong to do so. That and that I'm always very grateful for the support I see online, especially from people who also get...this....everything. It makes me feel marginally less alone about the whole thing. Just hearing that I'm competent makes all the difference in the world -- This message meant more than you realized.

[blondrichclosetwitch]

“When they inquired why she tolerated such treatment, Eva replied, with complete sincerity, that her boyfriend's actions were motivated by his love for her.”

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Water pouring from her eyes

Alcoholic and very bitter

Still prepared for an attack

They didn't know they'd been disabled

Felt a wave a rush of blood

And you're out swimming in the flood

You kept back you kept unspoken You got a look in your eye

When you're saying goodbye

Like you want to say hi

The light was on but it was dim London bridge is safe and sound (england not attacked but yes US)

No matter what you keep repeating

Nothing's gonna drag me down

“it felt like a hit”

Diesel is an unfinished work of suede’s. Brett said this:

“when it comes to writing, there's something to be said about being unhappy. I know I've been at my most creative when I've been sexually unsatisfied."

“You know it's about violence and abuse and sex and drugs. It's actually quite a hardcore song.”

“Twisted sexuality is the only kind that interests me. “

Oh Lord, surprised by the rise in sin, you came through

You came through (this played while I was saying the our father I think. I have been having a lot of moments lately where Ive been struck dumb on reflecting how trapped I felt in 2020, and how I begged him for help, even though I had shitty faith tbh. i never really connected to God. I have a theory that earth signs are shitty at asking for help. )

This ammunition never rests

Dad, they broke me

I’ll fly another white flag over us

No justifying staying down in silence

Still she is my Germanic Queen (Caroline was my name in Ireland, and I’m czech/sicilian/ But I’m 29% Germanic European, which explains the nose.)

And as my little sister played the (diamond) Dogs took her away, and I guess she was eaten up okay

They will receive their reward

Standing in a hurricane (I do not suggest being left alone in a hurricane post abortion, that’s just dripping with symbolism)

And she speaks inside a cloud with her countenance turning around (stella)

Three years ago today played next. Well 3 years ago today, a little voice in my head told me to take the pictures out of their frames, and There were red marks on every single one of them. Upon closer investigation, I saw that skulls and crossbones and some satanic symbols had been drawn on the glass. And then i found my brother’s picture.

But the truth is I was shocked

Kids never lie

Origin of love

The man don’t know but the little girls understand

Shiver & shake

And when we are done we all have wings we won’t need leg to stand

Once in a million years a lady like her rises

Still I feel like dreaming

Drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow

i’m not afraid to go but it goes so slow

wade into the fire

Don’t you take her away from me

Get it out

get it out

get your fucking voice out of my head

I never wanted this

never wanted any of this

I wish you were dead (on this line, my legs lit up hard. I was in the kitchen)

The dream has just begun( and hours of waiting for you in hopes of meeting)

Cause everybody knows who you are

And I know that it can’t be easy to be super boy in a messed up world these days, and super girl in a thankless world these days

Please don’t let them get

You down because

You’re the only superheroes in our town

This means you must be still a little bit in love with me

Stjarna is the Norse word for star; stella is a 8/17—17 is the Star card in the tarot.

I think I should give up the ghost—-they showed me the Tarot Reader saying this and it referred to an older spirit who was connected to us.

“I know that I’m guilty.”

Brian Wilson wrote this song – ironically and sadly – a bit before he actually lost his mind / ego:

"Wilson's warnings about losing touch with one reality through effortless chemistry while coming closer to another one through the determined effort of talent ... don't let your identity be melted away during your search for enlightenment. It's an artificial paradise, he cautions, since as Jack Kerouac once remarked, enlightenment wasn't built in a day!"

He's gonna win someday, oh, he will

We did three after 12:34, the following:

I know I felt like this before

But now I'm feeling it even more

Because it came from you

See no evil in all directions (don’t change was the 6th song on the Nusch, the first playlist. It was the first song that I remember stella getting “excited” about. I remember walking down Driggs with the pendulum in my hand, laughing at how she would go in a circle. )

Give me a Leonard Cohen afterworld so I can sigh eternally ( it took a while to get to this. Today there has been a couple of references to what happens when a spirit on the Other Side is held captive. It’s hard to say why this is done, but this is a subject I’ve had to look at time and time again. For example, in 2017 once I was told that Stella “had the Devil in her” and that that was why she was tricking me, when it wasn’t Stella at all. But controlling spirits is something knowledgeable magicians can do, if you know how. It’s something I’m still learning about, but I know of a few spirits who got messed with, in this way. It’s a very good reason to do ancestral healing work. All the Dead aren’t healthy automatically. Often we need to help them transition.

And if a person is trying to control them, well that’s a completely different situation.

This happened to the baby’s spirit, stella, random, and Jakk’s mother.

I don’t know specifically how to do what was done to them, but I do know about ascension work, and that’s what I work on. The first picture is the baby spirit when he came to me in 2020. )

(Baby Britain 1058, she kissed me it felt like a hit 11:01, diesel 1104, you may know him 11:11 AM, Stop breathing 11:11 AM, bow down 1117, Caroline says 1122, wild packs of family dogs 1125, gamma ray 1129, three years ago today 1133, Time to get away live at MSG 1134, origin of love 1138, back door Man 1140, shiver and shake 1144, we won’t need legs to stand on 1148, Rhiannon live 1977 1155, Grace live 1158, the Kiss 1203, straight back 1212, Superboy and Supergirl 1214, skin diving 1217, give up the ghost 1220, stjarna 12:25, take it or leave it 12:31, hang on to your ego 12:34, dreams (cranberries) 12:38, don’t change 12:41, pennyroyal tea 12:45)

[realtalk-princeton]

Katara - how did you decide based on your internship that you hated finance? What was your internship exactly? I am working a remote internship in a finance field that I don't enjoy, but am not sure if I should give up on pursuing finance or give it another shot but in a different area. Finance seems so broad.

Response from Katara:

Finance is very broad! So i did Sales and trading, which is different than like IB, corporate finance, etc. i think what’s great about internships at big banks is that it really isn’t busy work/ bitch work at all, you’re actually producing work that will be used by the company and really getting to see what the role entails, as well as the culture of the company and the lifestyle that comes with the job. And with that said, by 4 weeks in S&T I HATED my life lol. 

So first thing I hated what the schedule. Unlike IB, S&T hours are really early until like moderately late. I worked like 6 or 7 am to 6 pm. That truly was just too early for me lol, I would have preferred the staying in the office until 2 am thing that IBers do. Both are awful and unsustainable but i truly am not a morning person. 

Then the actual work. A lot of finance jobs are really menial and thankless- like if you were to die randomly the company wouldn’t miss a beat in filling your place. I felt so replaceable and inconsequential and like it would be difficult for me to ever feel like I was doing anything meaningful other than making a bank richer. It really didn’t seem like a fulfilling career- like yeah I could make a ton of money, but i finally understood what “selling out” really entails. I feel like princeton provides us with a lot of skills and teaching that could help find a role where I can actually feel like I’m making a difference in the world, and in the role I found it completely impossible. 

There was also so much turnover, in the time i was there so many people got fired/ quit and it really made me question both job security and what was driving people to choose other careers. 

The last thing I thought about was exit opportunities. What skills would i gain from two years in this role and what could i do after? i truly didn’t see any tangible exit opportunities from the role I would be in. Throughout the entire thing, they kept reminding us that this would be at least your next 2 years. And i really couldn’t see myself doing this for like another month lol. 

I really loved all the interns I worked with tho! would highkey be the only reason I even considered going back. 

Everyone has different opinions though, some people really loved all the parts of the job i hated. So I think you need to look introspectively and figure out what you like, what you don’t like and where you want to see yourself in the future. Also remember, finance is broad, so just because you don’t love your specific role, doesn’t mean you’d hate something else.