#I was committed to drawing them as imperfect as possible

[entheie]

[creation-help]

Hii! I've been on ur blog for a bit and all the writing advice is super duper helpful

I'm sort of having trouble with starting basically anything w writing right now. I'm a beginner, I feel like i really want to make something but at this point I'm sort of stumped 😭 I'm not sure how to come up with real ideas or how I should even start.

I want to get good at writing. I can draw but most of the time I don't really know what I want to cmake if that makes sense

Do you have advice for this? My apologies if you've already answered an ask like this before lol I don't mean to bother, I hope your having an amazing day <333

Hi! I understand this is a difficult situation but from the looks of It, I think your trouble is the mind jail you're in currently. We see it repeated on Tumblr often "Do it bad, do it imperfect, just do it", and I'd like to fully stand by that advice here when talking to you!

Struggles with starting

Really there's no easier way to say this, but you have to Just Start. However there are multiple ways to help you Just start!

- Have something to write with easily on hand at all times, you never know when the idea strikes! This can be phone or even a notepad!

- When the idea strikes GET IT. Pounce on it like a jaguar. Get itttt. If you don't feel like expanding on it, then leave it, but you need to start treating all possible ideas that you vibe with, as potential sprouts to grow! If you spend too much time second guessing or debating over if the idea is good enough or not, you Won't Write More. If the idea sucks, you don't have to commit! But don't let the ideas pass you by! If you get an idea catch it, write it down, find expansive questions to grow it with, get music, brainstorm, vibe, rest, repeat! You are always allowed to start and stop. You are the god of your writing.

- It is okay to suck. You don't have to be good to share, but you also don't even have to share if you don't want! You don't have to share anything to anyone!

Struggles with ideas

- Find inspiration. Where? Anywhere! Start new shows, new movies, read other people's writing, look at flowers on the sidewalk, ask your parents dumb Fandom questions, get into a new music genre. You don't have to follow through with everything but so long as you surround yourself with variety, you will be nurturing your creativity! Just get a steady flow of new stuff to enrich your brain. This is part of the soil your sprouts will need.

- Make mind maps, Google every little detail you can think of relating to your new idea when you have it (not so much you'd exhaust yourself tho!), interrogate yourself, ask people to ask you questions about your idea, go down pointless meanders and rabbitholes about the idea. Give it time to soak. Indulge it. Be a little pretentious over it even.

- Nothing is original anymore, and every different interpretation is valuable enough to exist. What you make is unique to yourself. These ideas all coexist

Struggles with skills

- I am going to say this very gently but firmly. You will get better by doing more. You will hone your skills by using them.

- There's loads of resources both online and irl to search from if you want to improve your writing! You can even try to imitate styles that you like and start moving from there. Kinda like how artists do Studies. You can also expand your vocabulary by searching up different words for things you already know, or words relating to the things you wanna write. It'll help lots! My personal recommendation for improving writing even a little bit is to be conscious of your word choices and make sure you don't overuse the same word too much, at least not in the same sentence. Unless that's the intended effect you're going for

As a closing statement I also wanna add that you should just take care of yourself in general. Sometimes your brain needs more enrichment to work better, or sometimes it just doesn't really give you much just because. Try not to get torn up over it and try again later.

Hope any of this helps! Be brave!

[gloopytits-chaosmod]

"hey could we not do pedo bashing? i think the current definition and incentives are tied to mob-culture in the Klan-sense and makes it so there's just a never-ending mob raging against so called "bad queers" who don't deserve human rights and it's become pretty easy for anyone to be pedojacketed just from how paranoid this fear is, really drilling down stranger-danger ideology from the 90s."

"UHHH BUT DID YOU CONSIDER HOW GOOD I FEEL BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF THESE DEGENERATES?? THIS IS GOOD FOR ME TO DO. I AM PREVENTING EVIL."

"Preventing evil? Did they rape someone?"

"Not as far as I know, no."

"Then... then why the baseball bat? Why the effort?"

"BECAUSE THE IDEA OF A QUEER RAPIST MADE ME SO FUCKING ANGRY I KNEW I HAD TO PUNISH THEM FOR IT"

If someone violates your kid, statistically, it was you. Can we internalize this as white people? That the rapists we fear are in the family and would violate regardless of the existence of drawings that make you wince? It's not the queers, it's the perversion of the authroity we teach kids to respect that gets them messed up like this, cause we teach kids everything abt trusting shady fucking adults but no vocabulary to explain the violation through... in the service of preventing the violation because pandora's box or something? Fallacy fallacy fallacy. People want there to be inferior brains so every new generation the split between young, young adult and adult becomes more and more explicit and the threshold for being an adult gets higher and higher.

By the standards of the society I'm from, people still don't really view me as a fully fledged adult, as my brain still has room for radicalisms. And that's weird, right?

Like it seems bizarre to me that at the same time the pedo-noia is at an all time high there is also a political movement to ensure that young people are given as few options as possible to be considered legitimate members of the nightmare they witness every day.

Despite teaching us nothing useful, it's still our responsibility to deal with our inability to reason white supremacy's legitimacy. Failure to do so is not just a failure to conform, it's a failure to grow up: the value of your perspective is inherently less because you aren't reacting the right way.

Our society is a massive burning balloon. Nowhere in the universe has so many been this gaslit at the same time.

We know society doesn't work as is. We see it commit genocide. We see it sow hatred. We see it break every last one of us down into a checking account and an IBAN. To have these experiences of frustration, despair, these humans connections we make as we try to cope with the devastation of what we were promised in our minds eye, a society of happy people leading imperfect but dignified lives, be relegated to the irrationality of a developing brain is soul-wrenching and it causes people to legitimately give up on radicalism and accept hatred as the new currency by which to pay the toll of getting out of bed.

Are they victims or cops? Am I a victim or a cop? I only know one thing: the reality of white supremacy at the heart of empire. They might be victims. But they choose to be cops. There is nothing to save.

Burn Europe. Destitute White Society. Lets start the process of denazification once and for all, and dance to the spirit of friendship as the warlocks of Capital will be shot and quartered in an act of love.

[thenextcelestialchapter]

An Idea for Croods 3??

Even though they’re probably already working on it lol.

So I find myself thinking about that concept art for Croods 2 and the scrapped characters. I’ve thought since the beginning that I wished something could have been done with the designs. I’ve been mulling an idea about it tonight for some reason so here goes:

Croods and Croods 2 were funny as heck and if they made a third film of course the focus would still need to be on comedy. However! I feel like if the Croods 3 were to end the whole shebang, and it probably should, then it should be the most daring of the Croods movies, with the most to say and, well, just “goes there”. 

The first Croods movie actually briefly touched upon a few of these kinds of issues but I think they need to really tackle them head on in a final film. What am I talking about some of you might wonder? Abuse. Of course though none of our main players would commit such acts, so we need a new family with these problems. And I think I know just the one!

Croods is in need of a proper, hate-able villain... And I think this guy should be him.

They probably originally designed him as more the bumbling/overbearing but ultimately loving/caring and well-meaning type dad like Grug is supposed to be. However, since Grug already fills that role, I think this guy would be better suited as a villain/the dark combination of Grug’s strength and Phil’s intelligence and need for perfectionism. Like he might get along with both dads at first bc he has things in common with both, but eventually he gives off the vibes as being the kind of guy who expects what he thinks of to be as perfection/idealism, or else. His own general appearance gives off this vibe, but then you look at the art of his potential wife...

This woman... Bugs me so dang much. XD;;; Like the art itself is cute, she looks fun and fun to draw, but she looks so disgustingly perfect for a cavewoman, and she especially looks out of place as a Croods cavewoman. But I think that could be what possibly elevates this character and makes it make sense. Maybe there’s a reason she looks and acts so unnaturally “perfect”. Maybe it’s bc it’s what her husband demands of her, and her perfection reflects her fear of her imperfections ever being seen...

After all, the caveman stereotype we tend to think of is a much more violent type of man. Grug himself taps into this violence when he thinks he needs to protect his family, but I just can’t stop thinking about that “joke” Gran made about her father essentially tearing her apart from her true love and actually SELLING her to another mate. THAT’S FKIN CANON LIKE DAMN. So why not have at least one villainous caveman type character? Why not have one jerk who is willing to pull his wife by the hair and order her around who the others eventually have to square up against as a true family?

Also I feel like this girl...

And this one were probably meant to be sisters, maybe...? They look too unlike each other to be the same character I think, but I also think that’s what they should do with her. Like the first image is who she is forced to be at first by her dad, making her into a mini version of her mother who he also molds through intimidation. But the second image could be closer to what she really wants to look like/looks like by the end. Cavegirl BFFs are great but what about a whole Cavegirl Posse, dude!

Also speaking of Gran, if this third story were to focus more on issues like these, I feel like it would only be fair to go back to Gran’s issues too. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have just a lil fun with it lol...

Like I’m thinking it would be hilarious if Gran just casually mentions something horrifying happening to her in her youth like she did that one time at the dinner table, and she’s laughing it off at first, but then Hope/Dawn or Eep/Thunk or someone casually remarks to her, “Wow Gran, that actually sounds really awful! If that happened to me I’d probably be traumatized for life!”

At which point it slowly dawns on Gran how messed up it actually was. She slowly starts to sob. It gets SUPER massively uncomfortably awkward while she’s crying, all the other characters look really unsure what do to at first... Finally, one of them reaches over and gives Gran one or two quick pats on the back, and she immediately stops sobbing and exclaims in her normal voice, “ALRIGHT, I’M OVER THAT! I’M TOO OLD TO BE TRAUMATIZED! GIMME MORE FOOD!” XD

[shadowsong26fic]

An Imperfect Memory

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: PG

Fandom: Les Mis

Characters: Javert, Cosette

Warnings: References to canonical character death (Fantine’s)

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: So, my roommate has dragged me (not entirely unwillingly XD) down a Valjean/Javert rabbit hole; and then I wandered off into another corner of the warren that is Javert & Cosette and how that stepparent relationship might work and to stretch this metaphor to the breaking point I got hopelessly lost so I guess I live here now lol.

Anyway, I have this headcanon that Cosette likes to draw/paint; Roommate informed me that in the novel (which I read abridged years ago but only remember so much of), Javert also draws. And that’s where this came from (along with another Super Secret Project I’m working on alongside other things for other fandoms).

This is, obviously, a canon-divergent AU where both Javert and Valjean survive and...again. Rabbit hole, lol. I may continue to tweak this (especially the last couple lines) but it wouldn’t leave my head until I shared it, so here we are.

Javert paused for a moment, hesitating before tapping on the half-open door.

Mme. Pontmercy was just where he’d expected her to be, settled in a chair by the window where the light was good, sketching something he couldn’t see from this angle.

It was that pastime of hers that had made him think of…well. That had brought to mind the purpose for this particular conversation. Once he took that step and began it.

Well. He was here now, and he had committed to this. No sense in delaying.

He raised his hand to knock, but then she looked up, beating him to it.

“Oh!” she said, half-rising. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Are you looking for papa? I think he’s--”

“He’s out in the garden,” he said. “I know. No, I was…I was actually looking for you.”

She blinked. “For me?”

“Yes,” he said, then hesitated, the folded paper tucked up his sleeve burning against his skin. “May I?”

“Of course,” she said, rising fully and moving over to sit on the couch instead, where he could have her full attention. “Please, come in.”

He inclined his head, and took a step into the room, then another. He remained standing.

A long moment of silence stretched between the two of them.

Damn it. “I…apologize, madame, if I am overstepping,” he began, breaking it. “But I…I am aware that you have…questions. About your mother.”

“Ah,” she said, lowering her eyes. “Yes, I…I still feel like I know so little about her.” She looked up again, tilting her head. “Did you know her, monsieur?”

“I only met her once,” he said. “Very briefly. And I was…unkind.” He closed his eyes for the barest of moments, then locked that--feeling away before continuing on. “In any case, I am sure your father has told you about her, more than I possibly could. But for all his many talents, your father is not…he is not an artist.” He winced a little. “I am not, either, not particularly, but from time to time, I…”

“I didn’t know,” she said, after another long and increasingly awkward silence.

“Yes, well,” he said, then pulled the paper out of his sleeve and offered it to her. “I thought…I thought perhaps you might like to have this.”

She tilted her head again, giving him another of those quiet, questioning looks, and then reached out to take the paper. She unfolded it carefully, and then froze for a moment before looking up at him, eyes wide. “Is…is this…?”

He nodded. “Based on my imperfect memory,” he said, softly. “Yes. That is…to the best of my recollection, that is your mother.”

“Oh,” she breathed, looking back down at the sketch.

He had tried to soften some of the…harsher edges of the circumstances, while still doing the dead woman justice--so to speak. In a way he had been incapable of all those years ago. It had been some time since he had focused so much on a drawing, rather than using it as a tool, or as a way to keep his mind and hands occupied between more important tasks.

But this--this attempt at…amends, perhaps…

Nothing had felt quite so important when he was working at it.

He wasn’t entirely sure how successful he had been. He hadn’t shown the drawing to Valjean, who was the only person who could have judged the likeness. He had considered it, but that had felt…no, this was something for the daughter alone.

And then a very strange thing happened.

Before he even realized she was moving, Mme. Pontmercy had risen from the sofa, taken a few quick steps across the room to him, and--

And flung her arms around him.

He drew in a startled breath and froze, unable to move or think. He could feel something wet on his shoulder--she was crying?

And then her voice, soft, in his ear. “Thank you,” she said, before pulling away.

Yes, her eyes were shining, and she had his drawing clutched tight in her hand.

“I…ah.”

“I cannot tell you how much this means to me, monsieur,” she went on. “Thank you.”

He bowed his head again. “You’re…you’re welcome, madame.”

She smiled at him, brightly, through her tears. “Would you…would you like to join me?” she then asked. “Drawing, I mean. There’s plenty of room at the window, and I think…I would like that, very much.”

“Some…some other time, perhaps,” he said. “But thank you, for the…for the invitation.��

“Some other time,” she agreed, still smiling.

[robertreich]

Staying hopeful in turbulent times

Friends,

The reason I write is not just to inform (and occasionally amuse) you, but also to arm you with the truth so you can fight more effectively for the common good.

The forces undermining our democracy, polluting our planet, and stoking hatred and inequality have many weapons at their disposal ��� lobbyists, media megaphones, and money to bribe lawmakers. But their most powerful weapon is cynicism. They’re betting that if they can get us to feel like we can’t make a difference, we will give up — and then they can declare total victory.

Which is why we have to keep up the fight even when feeling deeply discouraged.

I’m not going to pretend. There’s a lot to be discouraged about right now — from Manchin’s torpedoing of “Build Back Better” to the surging Omicron variant of COVID-19 and the politicization of public health, from the Republicans’ assault on voting rights to environmental disasters all over the world. My message to any of you who feel overwhelmed, disappointed, or ready to drop out: I get it.

I’ve been in the trenches for five decades and sometimes I despair as well. Again and again over the years I’ve seen hard-fought dreams go up in smoke. Or been sidelined. Or ridiculed. Or I’ve watched them succumb to bribery and corruption. Two of the leaders I counted on most in my lifetime were assassinated.

But notwithstanding all this, we are better today than we were fifty years ago, twenty years ago, even a year ago. 

I can point out so many examples in our own country, or all across the world, where movements that were once small and stacked against seemingly impossible odds, ended up winning and making America and our earth a better place to live. From Martin Luther King, Jr., to Mahatma Gandhi, to more recent examples like Stacey Abrams and Greta Thunberg, people have repeatedly changed the course of history by refusing to believe that they couldn’t make a difference.

It’s not only the famous leaders who are agents of change. Movements are fueled by individuals giving their time, energy, and hope. Small actions and victories lead to bigger ones, and the improbable becomes possible.

Nothing strikes fear in the hearts of those who want to prevent progress more than a resistance that is undeterred.

This fight, this struggle, all these big problems, can be exhausting. No one can go all in, all the time. That’s why we need to build communities and movements for action, where people can give what effort they can, and can be buoyed in solidarity with others. Strengthening our resolve. Sharing information and analyses. Fortifying ourselves.

Over the next few years the fight will become even more intense. We are even battling for the way we tell the story of America. There are those who want to go back to a simplistic and inaccurate narrative, where we were basically perfect from our founding, where we don’t need to tell the unpleasant truths about slavery, racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, and all the other injustices.

But there is another story of America, one of imperfection but progress. In this story, which is far more accurate, reformers have changed this nation many, many times for the better. We got labor rights, civil rights, women's rights, and LGBTQ rights. We got clean water laws and clean air laws, and health insurance for most Americans. We’ve torn down Confederate statues and expanded clean energy. We’ve got a new generation of young, progressive politicians determined to make the nation better. The list goes on and on.

The outcome of the fight ahead will not be determined by force, fear, or violence. It will be decided on the basis of commitment, tenacity, and unvarnished truth.

Here’s my deal. I’ll continue to give you the facts and arguments, even sprinkle in drawings and videos. I’ll do whatever I can to help strengthen your understanding and your resolve. Please use the facts, arguments, drawings and videos to continue the fight. To fight harder. To enlist others.

If at any time you feel helpless or despairing, remember that the struggle is long, that progress is often hard to see in the short term, and that for every step forward regressive forces are determined to push us backwards. Also remind yourself that the fights for democracy, social justice, and a sustainable planet are necessary and noble, that the stakes could not be greater or more important, and that we will — we must — win.

I wish you a restful, enjoyable, and restorative holiday.

Robert Reich

PS: If you’d like to join me on a (nearly) daily basis, please subscribe at https://robertreich.substack.com/

[meowscarada]

now that he's posting more gorillaz stuff again i gotta say something that really bums me out to have realized: i really dont like jamie hewlett's art anymore. this is only really in reference to his gorillaz work since his other stuff seems to still look amazing. i adore all of his (gorillaz related) work up to phase 4. i think the styles he employed for humanz was fantastic and experimental and i was so excited to see where he'd go, but somehow it just disappointed after that once he went to the really flat coloring with bizarre color choices that arent even bizarre in an interesting way. a lot of the drawings he does now are ugly, but again, not in an interesting way.

i know his art for gorillaz has never been "pretty." it's always been kinda gross and weird and, especially in phases 2 and 3, more grungy and messy. but at least they were dynamic and used that "ugliness" to accentuate the cartoonishness of the characters (and by ugly i mean unconventionally appealing). they were exaggerated and anatomically incorrect and had stray lines and were drawn with a textured brush. it was so imperfect altogether that the imperfections themselves didnt stand out, but instead complimented each other. phase 4 got a lot cleaner in its designs but the busy and highly edited collages along with beautiful color changes made up for this by maintaining a super dynamic atmosphere that was still avant-garde.

i think the biggest turn off of hewlett's current art is that it's too polished. it's too clean and it feels artificial. his lines are perfect, his brushes are non textured, etc. previous phases were accompanied by mostly muted color palettes with occassional accents of strong colors to really make them pop. now the color choices seem like artificial food colored frosting. they're bright but they dont really convey any kind of mood or atmosphere the way his color palettes used to do. the colors just feel very commercial. and the biggest change has come from his anatomy. his anatomy is extremely realistic compared to past eras. whereas before he would make very simple and angular shapes that really stylized the anatomy, now he's employing a way more representative style. and because human anatomy can only move and bend so much, and because that limitation becomes even more limited when it's being staged, hewlett's art is a lot more stiff than it used to be. so when you combine the "ugly" aspects of his art--the detailed hands, the individually drawn teeth, the wrinkles, etc.--with the more perfected and clean techniques he's using, they create something sort of uncanny. it doesnt embrace the ugly like it used to and now its not ugly in an interesting or appealing way. it's not dynamic and it's not exaggerated, it doesnt embrace itself the same way it did before. it doesnt commit. it's just ugly.

his work is still technically fine, and i'm sure it's embracing its ugliness in a different way. it's just not as successful as it was before in my opinion because it's basing its concept on the ugly and dynamic while basing its execution on the clean and accurate, whereas it used to base both concept and execution on the ugly and dynamic. i definitely think theres possibility for the art style to change, but this is just how i feel about the current direction and how i've felt about the art post-phase 4

[midnightsconspiracy]

Consolation

Consolation - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Jay’s perfect to you, but in your eyes you’re definitely not. This leads you to distance yourself and prepare for heartbreak, until Jay reassures you otherwise.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1092

Requested: Yes!!

‘Hello could I request something with Halstead where their partner is feeling a little self conscious about their appearance and starts to push jay away and he notices and finally she tells him it’s because he’s so in shape and she feels like she doesn’t compare and just ends in lots of fluff? Totally get if you don’t feel like writing this topic! Your work is amazing keep it up :)’

A/N: Cried whilst watching criminal minds last season writing this, so it took me like 10x the amount of time to write it.

Masterlist

Jay had always been an attractive guy, drawing in the attention of both males and females alike. It was something that always just happened, something that was outside of his control, not that he minded most of the time. But now that he was in a committed relationship, he just wanted it to stop. The women who approached him to get his number or his bed always got turned away with a polite smile and firm rejection. However many of them lingered after to tell him how he deserved better, or if you weren’t with him that night, insisting that they didn’t see anyone, so they would tell if he just happened to fall into bed with them. That would piss Jay off even more than the original flirting did, why would he want someone else when he had you? Even when Jay would get angry at the person, there was still a part of you that felt as though you were inadequate, in comparison to those other women. That somehow they were better for Jay than you, even though he had picked you to be the one to date. They were always pretty than you, friendlier than you and way more confident than you. But your insecurities ran further than just the other people, it was Jay himself that made you feel that way too. Not that he was verbally expressing these ideas, god no, Jay was an absolute sweetheart, never saying a bad word against you and always treating you with the utmost respect and loyalty. It was the way he looked. The man was chiselled by the Gods, every single feature of his body was perfect, along with his personality that had originally been the part that had drawn you in. You felt as though you were nothing compared to him, although he liked to believe otherwise, but in your mind, you had so many imperfections that you would never rank as high as him.

So it led you to the conclusion that you would never be good enough for him, and the best thing for the both of you was if he would were to find someone who could compare to him. That meant distancing yourself, letting him down slowly, so you wouldn’t hurt his emotions in the process. It was easy enough at first to avoid your boyfriend, blaming it on a case that your firm had you running overtime on, but that excuse soon ran dry, as he got suspicious of your workload. Even when you did finally see him, you wouldn't hold conversation or be affectionate, always on the verge of tears, knowing what you needed to do. Kim had been your rock during this process, understanding you needed to do whatever you felt, but still encouraging you to speak to him. She had told you that whatever mindset about not being perfect you had was ridiculous; one that it was stupid and you were amazing and beautiful, and two Jay would not care about this and speaking to him was your best option. But you blindly ignored her, that insecure part of your mind taking over all your thoughts once again, reverting you to your original plan. You had recruited her in your idea, to keep a watchful eye out for where Jay was and what he was saying about you. She reported back that Jay didn't get why, not understanding what had he done for you to have this complete change of attitude. And that question still remained unanswered even after two weeks, as you kept this act up, just wanting to get it over with and finally let him have a better life without you.

But one day he decided that it was time to do something about it, tired of being ignored by the one he loved. So after work on a normal Tuesday evening, he drove over to your apartment, wanting answers to your new attitude. Deciding against knocking, he used the spare key to open the door, wanting to catch you off guard completely. As he entered he found you perched on the end of the bed, head in your hands, looking way too sad for his liking. "Y/N" he quietly spoke, not wanting to startle you but still trying to catch your attention. Looking up, you tried avoiding catching his eye, knowing if you did you would burst out in tears. You couldn't do this anymore, your heart was breaking and so was his, today was the day where you would bite the bullet. Kneeling in front of you, he took your hands in his, trying his hardest to gain your attention, wanting to make sure everything was ok with you. "Y/N, what's going on with you? Have I done something wrong?" Nodding your head, you sobbed, the words getting stuck in your throat, leaving you a blubbering mess. "I-i just can't J-jay, I'm nothing compared to you." Your crying intensified as you crumbled into a ball on Jay's lap, mumbling incoherently about everything you had been worrying about in the last two weeks. Little did you know, Jay could understand everything that you were saying, confused over why you would be feeling that way. Gathering you up in his arms, he pulled you into his chest as close as he possibly could, rubbing your back to comfort and calm the tears you were shedding. "Why would you think that? You mean everything to me and I wouldn't trade that for the world, no matter what you look like. You are perfect and even if you weren't, I would still be with you in a heartbeat." He stated, kissing your forehead and cradling your shaking self, whispering reassurances and affection to you as he did so. "You really think that?" You asked, still not believing what he was saying. "Of course I do sweetheart, I love you so much that you've ruined anyone else for me, you're that perfect." He reassured, slowly rubbing your temple as he smiled down at your now relaxed figure. "I love you too Jay," reaching up you kissed him briefly, before throwing your arms around his neck to properly hug him. Although there still was a little piece of you that still didn't believe it, Jay's words calmed you and your spiralling anxious thoughts down. Knowing that even if you didn't feel beautiful at times yourself, it didn't matter to Jay, he loved you for you and nothing would change that, not even those women who challenged your position by flirting with him.

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[raggedyhive]

Maybe we don’t focus on what’s physically possible with, like, heterochromia considering the internal appearances of alters, y’know. Can vary dramatically. But also. Contacts exist.

And the argument of "it's not canon so don't do that" is an interesting one.

I say this all, by the way, as someone who... doesn't personally like red-eye Jake.

That aside.

It's okay to just not like something. You don't have to turn it into "actually, it's harmful to like these things because X and Y communities get hurt for reasons I've decided."

Sure. Glowing red eyes can be a shorthand visually for evil—if you choose to only ever engage with art on surface-level depictions. Nothing ever only means one singular thing. That's not how life works. Assuming red eyes make a character evil is your personal assumption, and it's often not supported by how people engage with it these days. We see it a lot as... "edgy" and "cool," whatever your opinions on that are, and even then, that does not automatically mean that's exactly what's going on. I know that I don't care for the red eye stuff, for certain physical attributes being made to demonstrate how a character may be edgy. That does not make it,,,,, evil??? Shorthand for "there's trauma to be found here" or "this character likely has bad coping mechanisms" can similarly be stated. It doesn't mean only one—or any of these—is right. It's just a Thing that Exists and some people enjoy it. So what?

And yes, lots of art draws him with blood and weapons and committing crimes. Which is super weird considering he's a mercenary who canonically kills people with weapons and commits crimes. Same with Marc. I understand people may have the perspective that "it's worse for Jake because they make him the evil alter"—drawing someone with red eyes does not immediately make them an evil alter.

Furthermore, since we're pretending to engage with what actually matters to people on the dissociative spectrum, it isn't uncommon for alters to singularly view themselves as the "necessary evil" to protect others in the system or the body: this still does not make them actually evil. People looking from the outside should not immediately assume that makes them evil. And frankly, making an already violent character more violent or edgy in specific circumstances is not a crime. It is not inherently harmful.

Since the initial run of the show, and since we've moved on from peak popularity to the more rolling tide of fandom and curiosity, "evil alter Jake" is not something I've really encountered in a way that is not addressed in some capacity or acknowledged. I've now seen lots of people accusing other people of doing this when—God forbid—they depict Jake as a flawed character who hurts people and has not reconciled with his trauma, and thus his mechanisms are even more imperfect than the notoriously imperfect Marc Spector. It's complicated. Trauma is fucking complicated. Coping with it, even more so. But telling people they are problematic and perpetuating harm because you personally don't like something is actually the only problem going on.

People are not automatically reinforcing the evil alter trope via one (1) red eye. Like with my previous reblog, we're making up pretend non-issue arguments and saying it's causing harm to communities while simultaneously opting to ignore REAL LIFE THINGS that actually cause harm to communities. There's no tangible harm here, except to the people seeking to be offended on behalf of something via a tangential implication not directly stated and often not actually engaged in so they can act as moral arbiters for what is right and wrong. While, again, not engaging in real-life shit that actually helps the people they "defend" or "protect" on the Internet.

if you still think red-eye jake lockley is harmful, please settle down. what do you mean. what harm specifically can you point to, and why is it always "it makes jake the evil one" when--if we put on our critical examination lenses--this often isn't the case. or even when, on the surface level most people see, it appears that way, that does not automatically make it harmful. what do you mean. please.

[seychellse]

The price of divinity

online catholics and their spicy takes got me feeling some type of way again (aka I am feeling blasphemous and a little evil) and I have no other outlet

warnings: death, blood, cannibalism, zealotry, unhealthy relationship w/religion, idol worship, self-imposed martyrdom (???), a little environmental anxiety, so much heresy. God is a woman, god can die, god is uncapitalised and also is at the mercy of her followers rather than the other way around. not great if you're squeamish but not too nsfw otherwise. Catholics don't @ me I don't care

pairing: Mei Mei x gn!reader

wc: 3.2k

What did it mean to become divine? And what better way to obtain divinity than by devouring a god?

In the beginning, Mei had seen no need to create mortals in her image. She, who could never die, she who existed out of nothing and would endure after everything. Even though they had been made from her own hands, the humans made in her image made her sick; sick with hatred, disgusted that such imperfect, material beings would carry her name and her legacy to actualization. That beings of mud and bone would dare to call themselves reflections of Her on high. The revulsion gradually melted away once they erected statues and liturgies inscribed with Her name, when she heard the songs sung that lauded Her glory and Her authority. She was faith made word in their adoration, and she soaked up their love as both a testament to her pride and as a conduit for her burgeoning power, amplified by their exaltation. In the early days, fear and love were two parts of a beautiful whole within the congregation of mankind – and she couldn’t get enough.

But eventually, as with all young gods, she grew impatient, and with her impatience grew boredom. Her heart, so unlike the ones that powered her clergy, beat faster at the possibility of respect born out of choice, rather than meaningless obligation. So she experimented with free will. Rather than ruling over her creation with an iron fist and increasingly lofty demands of worship, she sat back and let humans run wild over her lush, green paradise created. They were created to love Her continually, and so Mei reasoned that perhaps she, too, would show them one act of love in return.

It was the first in a series of her bad decisions, in hindsight.

She was supposed to be omnipotent. But even the all-powerful must draw from a source; her fountain the adulation of her worshippers. But the fabled fountain was not ever-replenishing, her subjects slipping away and seducing themselves with the appeal of science, diminishing her magic. Downgrading her appeal. Why would one pray to a God when things such as advanced irrigation systems and modern medicine existed, after all? She sighed, centuries of dogmatic control slipping through her fingers like river water in the blink of an eye.

So many times, she had tolerated the antics of humanity, cursed and tinged with evil as they so often tended to be. Idol worship, greed and lust easily took over community spirit and the doctrine of loving one’s neighbour if swayed enough - she had seen it all. She understood. She had created all of humanity’s vices, as well as their virtues. Greed could be good; she saw to that. Much like power and lust, beneficial in small amounts, only ever malevolent when corrupted from within. A god could manage her vices - mortalkind less so.

Perhaps that was a reason for the world’s dying faith and her subsequent loss of power; Mei found that absent gods often were overlooked without the threat of divine retribution to stay their hands and steady their course. Humankind tended to get a little too big for its britches whenever they weren’t being kept in line by hellfire and damnation, after all. In it all, she could only glean one true believer amongst the apostates: you, dirty and demeaned but no less committed in your duty to spread Her word to whoever would listen. She watched with interest as you were kicked down again and again, and yet never let heretical beliefs poison your unwavering faith. It was admirable, if not a little single-minded. She did have very little power left, after all: the naysayers weren’t wrong in their predictions. But she could at least bring you some semblance of comfort with what residual power she could muster.

She looked once more at her last remaining bastion of faith, neither poisoned by the dying exhalations of the earth nor tainted by human design. With the last of her strength, she fell down from the heavens to protect your sanctuary, and breathed out her last divine breath in an effort to support your own mortal pursuits.

Having been brought up under the Church’s rigorous credo, you had never known anything else except for eternal servitude to the deity you called Mother. In past times, cathedrals had stood upright in the skies, reaching out in fervour to the divinity they had been created for. Kings had bowed down to divine law, their opulence and hedonism nothing compared to the power of the Church. But that was an age ago, the bygone era in which kings were still seen as paragons of divine rule and the common folk were simple, God-fearing people. You hadn’t been lucky enough to be born in that time, where religion was commonplace and expected, and instead you had been forced to make do with the real-time destruction of all you had been raised to believe.

Perhaps that was why when confronted with the reality of science favoured over reason, you found yourself floundering. Rattled by the loss of your clergy, you were desperate for something to hold onto in a sea of uncertainty. God could never desert Her creation – to say such things was the work of the devil, it had to be. The faithless had proclaimed with glee that God was dead, that humanity was doomed without a saviour to guide them to greener pastures. Many of your former churchgoers could be counted among their ranks; they made you sick with their heathen conversions and rejection of scripture. They would see hell, yet; you would bring back Her word and show them all the errors of their ways.

So you prayed. You prayed, and you pleaded, and you made personal sacrifices in Her name, all the while knowing nothing short of a miracle would ever be enough to convert the sceptics. Convinced that your work was far from finished, you took to the streets to continue missionary work, entirely reliant on charity and your own wits to see you through each day. Austerity meant very little when you were spiritually rich, and God would forgive your infractions, so long as you continued to commit them for Her sake. The Lord is my strength and my shield, you would chant to yourself at night, staving off the hunger that gnawed at your belly with passage recitals. Without faith it is impossible to please God.

The blasphemers slandered your name - accusing and hateful, eyeing you with disgust and venom, trying to shame you for fulfilling your duties in service to your god. They derided you for trying to make the loss of a deity an opportunity for personal gain. They, who had turned their backs on salvation and sought only their own survival. Divinity was a heavy burden and no small price to pay; and you sneered at them for being too weak to give themselves in mind and soul like you had. Like you would. And all that proselytising had paid off when Mei fell, literally, into your empty parish and into your custody.

Thinking back to all the rocks they had thrown at you, the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your own kin made you smile bitterly; they would see. Though your Saviour was less than divine in form, there was no denying it was truly Her, come to bless you for your everlasting devotion. You cradled her gently in your arms and brushed the blue-white locks from her pale face. Finally, your prayers had been answered. You knew exactly what you had to do.

“I am–” she started, only to be cut off by your shushing tones and reverent gaze.

“God,” you said softly. Spoken like a true believer. There were tears in your eyes as you set her on her feet and ushered her into your converted abode. “God is real. You are real.”

God herself had little remaining power on this Earth; her children ran riot while she tended to the declining temples erected in her name, pillars of worship that whispered of abilities she no longer held and age-old miracles she could no longer perform. Much like the world she had brought into existence aeons ago, so too was she dying. So you, her last devoted follower, sought to ease her pain and ensure a smooth, painless passing.

Mei only became more like her human counterparts as the years passed, too weakened to maintain her godhood while in corporeal form. Hell had long ago ceased to exist; she’d run out of energy to maintain it after the third or fourth holy war fought against her kind. Her children were always better at condemning themselves and others to perdition, anyway. So she let it all fade away. It would be her final undoing – without the threat of eternal damnation, what fear could she inspire in her creation? What would cause them to pray to her at night and maintain her places of worship, if not to seek salvation for their undying souls?

She enjoyed her days on earth, truly. Finally receiving the undivided attentions of her most loyal creation felt like a breath of fresh air after seeing the continued destruction of the planet she’d spent so much effort curating and designing for her mortal-made children. The only time you weren’t around to tend to her every desire was when you occupied yourself around the central marble altar, ostensibly the centrepiece in the abandoned abbey. It must have been lavish at one point, but much like the forgotten church you holed up in, most of it had been lost to time and the impending ecological collapse.

Mei hadn’t inquired about its origins, knowing exactly when and how it was constructed, but you indulged her anyway. You had delivered her to one of the original houses of worship that exalted Mei’s name, the only surviving locale to still be standing in the present day. Not that there was much left of it – the church you had converted into your home and base of operations was dilapidated and broken down, weathered to extreme degrees and falling apart on itself.

You weren’t as bothered with your dilapidated environs, though, always hurrying about busily and sprucing up the shared space with carefully-placed flowers of all kinds to make her stay as comfortable as possible. The colours varied; the faded pink of carnations made for a stark contrast to the cool white tones of Mei’s hair, the magenta-tinged white hyacinths feeling at home amongst the blueish veins that trailed up and down her alabaster skin, the only reminders of her human body in a godless world. Her favourites, however, were the vivid hydrangeas that coiled around the stone sanctuary to your chagrin. The very symbol of vanity, Mei saw herself in the pompous flower and its defiant roots; staunch and unchanging in a rapidly-evolving world that seemed to have outgrown the being that brought it to fruition.

You hated them more than anything. “It breaks the harmony of the arrangement. I wish I had never plucked them; now the sanctuary is plagued with their suffocating presence.” The cobalt blossoms seemed to be the only thing able to beat away your otherwise impenetrable mirth, your hackles raising whenever Mei would broach the subject of their inexplicable, stubborn growth.

“They’re nice enough. Lovely scent, too. Why not just leave them?” Mei had argued, hoping to sway you with superiority if nothing else, overstepping her final boundary as a walking being of divinity on a land that had no use for her might.

You looked at her desperately – firm in your own beliefs, but not wanting to upset the one person who you’d placed all your hopes and dreams in. “But… it’s all for you, my Lady. It needs to be perfect – no flower may be allowed to ruin the visual spectacle and undermine the sacred Host.”

Mei had relented after sensing your distress, but the matter remained unresolved. And so, you would hack at the mossy vines, all the while unaware of your divine guest’s misuse of her dwindling power to bring them back every night. Eventually, you stopped trying, stating that you had grown enough flowers of other kinds to cover up the unpleasant sight of the pompous blossoms, but you both knew better. Mei didn’t bring the matter up again, and you were satisfied enough with your work.

Through all her grandeurs about predominance and omniscience, Mei never truly saw the darkness that laid dormant in your slow beating, mortal heart, nor the frenzy you perfectly concealed behind your façade of awe-struck diligence. She woke up one day, tied to that same stone slab she had ignored all that time. Mei had only imagined your attention to detail becoming an aspect of your desire to impress her and liven up the depressing atmosphere – not to provide a brightly-coloured platter for consumption. Breathing in the overpowering scent of hundreds of carefully-prepared flowers, she thrashed around in restraints that shouldn’t have been able to contain her. You had tied her only at her breasts and knees, and she used what limited mobility she had to attempt to loosen the binds that held her steadfast in vain. They held tight, and she went slack in disbelief. Noticing her discomfort, you did your best to calm her, wild hands not-so-forcefully pressing her fluttering limbs back into the cold slab.

“Please be careful. I don’t want the binds to cause any harm.”

You plucked a peace lily from its family and tucked it delicately behind her ear. “You are so beautiful; I’m honoured that I can continue to serve You with everything I have, long after I am gone. The others beat me and left me for blasphemy, but I always knew better. I always knew You would return to Earth to seek refuge in Your bethel.”

I am a god, Mei tried to remind herself. Yet, she showed little evidence of that fact as she shrunk and wilt under your intense gaze, wary of your perfervid interest that transcended the simple love a disciple had for their Maker, delivered so perfectly to your door.

“‘Those who eat of Me will live forever.’ Isn’t that right? I have the body and blood of the Redeemer right here.” You uttered, your tone breathy, reverent. You gazed at your Saviour prostrate before you - the very same one you had emulated all your life in servitude and deference to her. Now, she was just a woman at your mercy. It didn’t lessen your love for her even one bit. You stroked her face, trying to calm your heartbeat with the cool touch of her pallid flesh on yours.

“Lord, make me worthy, that I may eat of Her body and drink of Her blood, that I will become divine. I give my life; my mind, your body, our soul. Let us become one.”

Her followers had dwindled alongside her fading importance in the world, the increasing natural disasters outside of her control. Once the reasonable acolytes had left, the only groups remaining were the ultra-religious, the zealots and revivalists. And even of them, you were the final linchpin holding together a moribund conclave – just her luck.

“I am your most loyal devotee. Through my body, Your reign will be eternal. My blood, entwined with yours, to reinvigorate your power and give you new life.” You whispered, your words attaching to Mei’s ears and taking hold as she strained her neck to look at you with incredulity.

Nobody could kill a god - and plenty of hubristic individuals in history had been laid to rest attempting to subvert that well-known belief. Mei wasn’t dying; her physical body was withering and decaying only in sympathy of the creation she had painstakingly seen to for aeons. It was fitting, you reasoned. All your life, you had been taught that gods did not bleed, that your body was a vessel for your deity and that your suffering elevated you above the heathen masses. You had been born only to live in service to your one true god, that you would give up your body for salvation. The undeath she endured today would only ensure life everlasting for her covenant, her rebirth in you a spiritual renascence for her gospel to spread far and wide and reaffirm belief in the only path to salvation.

“You shouldn’t do this. Please, release me – lest you damn your soul to eternal emptiness without the holy word to guide you. Remember your scripture! This is not what I preached when I created your kind.”

You simply stroked her cheek in reassurance. “Don’t worry, my Lady – I am already empty. Today marks the dawn of a new age; I’ll fill myself today and become divine to spread the gospel and reignite Your rule.”

Nothing had prepared you more for this moment. Knife in hand, your eyes shone with intent; love and madness entwined. Prostrate in front of you, Mei gripped the altar and exhaled deeply, her purpose finally fulfilled. She knew her clergy was all but exhausted, causing the two of you to take refuge in a crumbling reliquary of old times when her name was once enough to inspire fear and awe. How could she refuse the zeal of her most devout acolyte? Maybe it was the final thoughts of a dying god, to buy into the delusional ramblings of their followers, but she saw no other option. Accepting defeat, Mei only closed her eyes and manoeuvred her body to lie still and pliant to allow for more comfort in her final moments.

“Do what you will. I leave you My blessing. I bequeath you My domain; that you may succeed Me and oversee My creation. Lead them to greener pastures – this is my final wish.” You only nodded solemnly and finished your preparations, raising the blade high above your head to strike true her yielding flesh.

She placed her hands on her chest, urging you to trace her heart lines and cut open her human tabernacle. If you weren’t a believer before, you surely were now: absolutely enthralled by the pulsing of her vitals exposed to the air. Divinity incarnate, laid bare for you to observe and indulge. You licked your lips and said a prayer; one for Mei, and one for yourself as you dined and became one in Her. She never had a chance to resist. It didn’t matter – you would lay Mei to Her eternal rest, free at last from the shackles of tending to Her ungrateful flock. You would wash away their sinful lives, and you would start anew in Her name.

You looked on with wonder at each one of her sacred organs housed in her ribs, and when you took communion, you emptied your vessel of all thoughts, of all dreams and desires, and absorbed Her in mind, body and spirit. Mei gave herself to you fully, and you swallowed each and every part with relish. Intestines, liver, kidneys – you dug in with gusto, tearing and biting and clawing, barely stopping to take a breath. The immortality swelled within you as you ate your fill, leaving only the most important organ, the one you venerated and saved for last. The embodiment of pure love, covered in blood and wine and scratch marks.

You scooped out Mei's heart with your hands, and as you watched it continue to pump without source, you finally understood the meaning of transubstantiation. You laughed, and swallowed it whole.

[anewbeginningagain]

Hello, Yuzu anon here! Don't apologize for responding late, no problem: I really feel you, I am in the middle of a very stressful work period too.

I have drafted a quick response below, but I think it will be the last, because I realized while re-reading it that it sounds a bit like I am trying to convince you of Yuzuru 'superiority' by repeating somehow subjective opinions on stuff that can be interpreted in various ways. Which is not my intention because it's fine to me if we draw different conclusions from the same data and also because I am not actually that attached to the idea of him being considered the 'GOAT'. I just think it seems that way because when I try to put into words my reasoning it seems very passionate even just because it's long, but I really don't feel that strongly about it.

So, anyway, here are some points I would like to make, and then I'll shut up ahah.

1) I understand that Yuzuru has crazy stans, but I really don't like bringing that fact among factors why I should like or dislike him: he has no control over them and if I blamed people for their crazy fans I would have to unstan Tessa and Scott faster than light (I mean, apart from bullying people online, some of their fans actually committed real life stalking and harassing). I am not saying no one is allowed to be put off by them, just that personally that doesn't infer my opinion on Yuzuru because I consider a separate issue. 2) All my considerations were made on the basis of what I actually saw and felt during competition, fully considering other possibilities like actual imperfections and mistakes. And I still came to the conclusions I explained, to me sometimes the score did not match with the quality of elements and components, especially when confronted with other skaters in the same comp. As a simple fan, I don't consider myself enough of an expert to assume my opinion is the only correct one and if you don't see it the same way it's fine. 3) I have not read the entire blog of the author of that article, just the single piece. I fully agree there could be other interpretations to the data shown, but I think the author did a good job in explaining why some data where left out and accumulated enough data overall that the patterns that emerge are at the very least interesting and worth considering. Anyway, as I stated from the beginning, this was just an interesting read to me, not conclusive evidence in one way or the other. 4) I don't think Javi was a better complete skater than Yuzuru (I enjoyed him immensely and I think he was a better storyteller, but there are other types of artistry than purely storytelling, he was also pretty inconsistent at times, did not have better jumping technique overall, had often difficulties on spins - I am nitpicking, of course he was excellent, I just think overall Yuzuru was a more refined complete package). 5) It is true that post 2018, mostly due to almost continuous injuries, Yuzuru has not been the most consistent on all jumps, but he still had those quads consistently enough (even in that injured state) to actually state he has them, it's not like he is just attempting them. When he is on, the quantity of skills he performs (in addition to quads, for instance, the 4S+3A seq, just to mention a truly mind-boggling element at least to me) as well as the quality of them (I just cry about his 3A sandwiched between twizzles) and of his choreography to me do make him the best expression of the sport overall (again I fully agree other people may be better at one of these things, I just think he marries them better all in all). Of course he has to be on and of course he hasn't been often recently: lack of consistency is certainly something going to his disadvantage, but imo it's not the only element to be considered. 6) I agree he left a lot of other stuff on the table for that 4A, but I kind of understand his reasons for trying to do it and to his credit he came damn close to perfecting it. Also personally he hasn't gone around lamenting his lack of a medal as if it was someone else's fault, but accepted full responsibility for his scores (his fans were the ones doing the lamenting, and, again, I understand if they put somebody off, but I don't think that discussion should be mixed with Yuzuru merits or faults).

Sorry if this is long and rambly it's very late here, I am escaping sleep and responsabilities. I'm not sure I have made my points clearly overall, as English is not my first language. Anyway, as I was saying, I feel like we are going back and forth saying "yes it could be like this, but consider that it could also be like this" and each giving our own (valid) interpretations so I think I will probably stop bothering you by repeating the same stuff. I will happily continue to follow you though, I really like your blog!

Once again a very late response :) My thoughts:

I agree it's unfair to hold Fanyus against Yuzu but I have to admit I have a hard time not doing so. I've heard and read quite a lot about how some of them act during shows and especially competitions, and their harassment and bullying of other skaters have been common knowledge for a long time. The fact that he never once publicly told them to back the f*ck off other skaters is something that bothers me greatly. I have a similar issue with Yuna Kim not telling her fans to back off Sotnikova, I don't even like Sotnikova and I 100% think Yuna should have won, but her fans abused Sotnikova for years in some truly troubling way. I have a similar issue with what was done to Mariah Bell by Eunsoo fans and there are other examples as well. The bottom line is that while fandom wars and fans of all types of sport can be very toxic, there are times when the lines are crossed in a way that goes beyond what can be accepted, and Fanyus have been the worst thing in the skating fandom for at least 6 years if not more. And yeah, I do hold Yuzu partially responsible for that. I also think that the comparison to the V/ M fandom doesn't stand because V/M (and their loved ones) were the biggest victims of their f*cked up fandom and they actually did try to speak up on more than one occasion.

I understand that you came to your conclusions based on what you saw, I just think people bring a lot of subjectivity to things that can be objectively assessed. It's like how after the Olympics all of a sudden fanyus started saying that popping a jump shouldn't be seen as a big error that should affect PCS. It's absurd because a) of course it's a major error, especially in the SP when there are only 3 jumps b) they only started saying it after Yuzu popped the 4S at the Olympics SP. I just can't handle that type of hypocrisy.

The blog as I said is very very biased. It's basically based on the notion that Yuzu is being judged unfairly and then there's an attempt to "prove" it with numbers. A lot of effort goes into it and I respect that, but again it lacks objectivity.

Regarding Javi vs. Yuzu - that's subjective :) To me, Javi lacked quads and consistency at times but was a better all-around skater.

Regarding Yuzu's jumps after 2018, I went and checked :) In 2018 at ACI, CoR he did 4S, 4T, at GP Finland he did 4Lo< too. He managed to land the 4Lo cleanly at worlds. In 2019 at ACI and SCI he went for 4Lo and had a bad landing. He landed it at NHK and at GPF and at GPF he did a 4Lz too. He tried a 4Lz again at 4CC and failed. He tried the 4Lo again at Worlds 2021 and failed. The SP has had the same layout for years which explains why he basically maxed his scoring potential with it. The FS saw some changes with going for 4Lz twice and trying the 4Lo in the first two seasons of the quad, and as you said there were some sequences there, but overall the big issue is that he didn't do a clean SP and FS at the same international even against Nathan this entire quad.

I understand what his reasonings behind the 4A were. But fanyus can't say "he wanted gold or nothing" and "he was robbed of a medal" at the same time while ignoring his very big errors. Their mentality of him deserving a medal for showing up is as fucked up as the corruption in the scoring of Russian ladies that they love so much to talk about. Yuzu deserves things only when he earns them, you don't get a medal for showing up, that's the entire meaning of competitive sport - he needed to be competitive and he wasn't. He would have gotten the bronze if he would have gone for a normal combo instead of the 4A but he chose not to so it's on him. The way they praise his decsion and talk about his decision making while whining about him being robbed and having no control over his scorng is laghuable since even the 95 he got was something only Nathan would have been able to score if he messed up an entire jump. Yuzu is privelleged in terms of te scoring he gets compared to to other skaters and his fans are so blind they can't even acknowldge it.

I will say you made your thoughts very clear :) I understand why Yuzu is so loved and I do think he is one of the GOATs. But his fans treat him like a god and it's both troubling and also kind of revealing the fact that he is a really flawed skater and the more they insist he s perfect the more many of us notice the imperfections.

It's still has been super fun to chat with you :) You are super special in being able to read criticism about Yuzu as a skater without resorting to name-calling and insults and it's so refreshing tbh.

[ikemenfics]

Chocolate Kisses

Kennyo: You’re going to hell, you know that right?

Me: ...hashtag worthit

2521 written pieces of evidence that I shouldn’t be writing. later...

For: uh....Kennyo.  @daeva-agas​ Help me.

Up in the mountains, shrouded by trees, a lone figure sat atop a rock, meditating.  His features were deep set with the pains of a man who had seen painful years.  A deep scar bisected his face, a lone witness to the tragedies that had befallen him.  

Though his eyes were closed and there was no sound, he felt something shift.  Like those instincts animals have before an earthquake.  He had prepared for this moment.  Reports of strange happenings in both Azuchi and Kasugayama had put him on high alert, though he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.  Opening his eyes, Kennyo watched as a blade pierced his reality, slicing a clean line through the air, as if ripping through an invisible screen.

A figure stepped out.  He was clearly not Japanese.  His features reminded Kennyo of the traders seen around Nobunaga’s ilk, but his clothing marked him as being not one of the Portuguese.  Kennyo had seen few of the foreigners who had recently taken to Japan, but he knew none wore such blinding fabrics.  There was an air of elegance from the man, from his flashy clothing to his poised stance.  Clearly, this was a man of rich living and rigorous training.

“Greetings,” the man said, bowing with a flourish, sheathing his rapier in a fluid motion that bespoke a lifetime of practice, “My name is Edgar and I have been commanded to give you this.”  With a sweep of his arm, Edgar produced an item, tossing it to Kennyo.  Instinct bade Kennyo catch the bag, though he did not give it any further attention.

“Why?  The Devil King now sending foreigners to do his dirty deeds?”  Midnight eyes met with emerald in challenge.  He didn’t get up, but Kennyo eyed the newcomer, assessing what fight this Edgar might bring.

“Devil King?”  Edgar grinned, an expression that left a cold spot in Kennyo’s soul.  The man’s eyes sparkled with amusement, to be sure and his face looked the part of a jovial man.  But something…deep in those glittering depths, that smile took an edge that recognized that title not of a separate man…but the kind of recognition that only comes with ownership.  This one clearly thought he be the devil of this world.  “My good man, I am not here to commit a ‘dirty deed’,” even the way that was worded made Kennyo well aware that this man was well versed in deeds.  “I merely come to bring you joy to spread on this day.  For today must be quite special, indeed.”

“And if I do not desire this…joy of yours?”

“That is not my jurisdiction.  I simply was sent to deliver.  And now, I bid you good day.”

The figure in white stepped back into the void he’d created and unsheathed his sword, using the thin tip, resealing the world from the bottom up.

Kennyo finally looked down at the thing the strange figure had tossed to him.  The pouch itself was clear, shiny oddly shaped pieces of silver something inside.  There were odd markings on the bag itself and it crinkled as Kennyo moved it about in his examination.

“Joy…” he muttered, dropping the item, “Such a thing does not suit a demon such as myself.”  After a moment’s hesitation, he plucked the thing from the ground, opting to carry it versus littering the pristine environment that was kind enough to hide him and his men during these war-torn times.  Another moment, he inhaled, moving to finish his morning’s meditation.  After all, he had new things to think about now.

Meanwhile, a group of figures sat at a table, sharing in a game of cards.  Edgar entered, leaning down towards one of the figures.  “Apologies…”

The figure nodded and stood, grabbing his scarlet cloak as he did.  “Don’t tell the doctor,” the man said, placing a cap upon his head before leaving.

“Are you sure you got this, old friend?”

“That is none of your concern.”

His eyes were still closed, but yet again, there was that feeling.  Like almost nausea, but from outside his body, however that was supposed to work.  Kennyo opened his eyes again, but rather than a slicing into the world, there was a flash and Kennyo found himself staring into ruby orbs that, to Kennyo’s amazement, shifted into a deep blue.  (Another demon…).  If Edgar was flashy, this one was just simply gaudy.  Same blinding white uniform, but now a flash of scarlet that Kennyo could still see even when he blinked.  

“I was not aware I needed more joy…” Kennyo muttered.

“You were told to spread joy,” the man said, his voice cold as ice and as distant as the moon, “to refuse the King of Hearts will lead to ruin.”

“I am already ruined.  I am simply a transient demon here to enact retribution before I fade away.”

Azure flashed to crimson again, “So be it.”  The world became so bright, Kennyo had to block his eyes, fearing they would burn away…

Back at the card game, the caped figure returned, dressing down to resume in the game. 

“You look tired..” a concerned voice

“That one is stubborn.”

That moment, two more heads perked, listening to unheard orders.  They stood, one plucking a black hat from the table. 

“It seems more reinforcements are needed.”  One said, nodding to the other.

“An unknown difficulty has arisen.  Let’s not be late.”

In Kasugayama, Shingen sat, the cold air tightening his chest.  It was a relief from his never-ending battle with his inner temperature, but the chill air was not kind to his lungs.  Still, it was nice to finally not feel uncomfortable inside his clothing, though any excuse to be natural with a partner was never unwelcome.

There was a strange glimmer in his view, then the appearance of a pale man.  Shingen examined him.  Pale was an appropriate descriptor, as this person made Kenshin’s icy appearance seem vibrant.  Even the man’s hair was pale as moonlight.  Shingnen stayed put, sudden understanding dawning on him.

“If you take our weapons again, be advised there’s apparently backups now,” he stated.

The man chuckled, his pink eyes dancing with amusement, “Then I’m quite glad I won’t be needing to take them.” 

Shingen laughed as well, “I must ask what brings you by, then.  Not that I mind company.”

“Oh?”  The man smiled, giving the warlord a look, “Though, sadly, there isn’t enough time for genial company.  I bear news that you might be interested in hearing…”

Across a distance in Azuchi, you were walking the halls when the world warped.  (OH NO!  NOT AGAIN!) You backpedaled, having little to no intention of repeating the incident featuring six hot guys and one almost faint you again.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t be so quick to run,” a voice said, a hand grabbing the back of your kimono.  Another hand reached, tearing a swift opening in reality, “I’m just an innocent, harmless person with a message for you, dear lady!”  He stepped into the world, flicking aqua hair over his shoulder, before clapping.  “But oh my, your robe!  It is quite decorative.  I think I would like one when I return to cradle.  Though,” he looked almost aghast, “should you be wearing it out here?  In this weather?”

“It’s ah…a kimono.  Traditional clothing for this place.”  The man nodded, taking it all in, “A robe to wear outside.  Brilliant.  And the color.  Oh but I shall have to postpone girl time for later.  I have news of one Kennyo that I think you should hear..”

He entered his camp, his men approaching with worried expressions.  He waved his hand to them, “I am fine.  My meditations took longer than I thought they would.  Have you all had your midday meal?”  They nodded and Kennyo returned the gesture, “Good.  We need our strength if we’re to keep with our plans.  Any news from our spies?”  Kennyo shifted, hearing a strange crunching.  He glanced down, seeing a spot of a clearish item catching the light.  He pulled out the pouch, eyeing the shining things inside.  Something tugged at his memory, but he couldn’t identify the noisy bag, nor its contents.  Call it instinct, though, but he was sure they were somehow important.  “Where did these come from…” he muttered to no one.

“Did you say something, Kennyo-sama?”

“Ah, no.  I will attend the lake for some fresh water.  Apologies that I did not help with the meal.”  Kennyo took the package, eyeing it on and off as he went.  The small things inside glinted and caught the light, but also held folds and imperfections that Kennyo couldn’t quite come to terms with.  If this was metal, it was rather damaged metal.  What use could these possibly have?  And yet, that nagging feeling just simply wouldn’t leave.

He could smell gunpowder and knew he was no longer alone.  [That strange ninja is here, again.  He better not be scaring off the wildlife again.]  The pop of a firecracker let Kennyo know where the location of the nuisance was.  He approached, Sasuke darting up a tree before Kennyo came too close.

Kennyo stared up at the man, “How many times must I tell you not to practice your tricks here?”

“Apologies.”

“Why do you keep coming back?”

“It’s out of the way of everyone.”

“Obviously not everyone.”

“Ah, but you aren’t in your camp.”

The bag in Kennyo’s hand crinkled, drawing Sasuke’s attention.

“Oh dear…”

“You know what these are, then?”

Sasuke hesitated, remembering his own adventure with the confections, “They’re called kisses.”

“Absurd.”

“It’s true.  They’re a candy from my village.”

Kennyo looked nonplussed, “You eat poor metal.”

“You remove the foil.”

What a strange man, a strange item, and just a strange day.  Kennyo shook his head.  Turning, he left the ninja and gathered his water, muttering about the lunacy of wanting to name food after kisses.

Later, Kennyo and his men descended from their hideout, moving into the plains.  The plan was simple, disguised as soldiers from The Devil and the Dragon’s armies, the townspeople will be more against the warlords and side with Kennyo, bolstering his numbers.  He himself remained as the monk that would provide the balm for the injured souls of the people.  

His men separated, leaving Kennyo to walk alone.  It wasn’t long, though before Kennyo realized something was very very wrong.  For one, the town seemed entirely peaceful.  Too peaceful.  There should have been a sign of struggle by now.  

He clicked his tongue, intending to check on his men, but found riders coming towards him.  The standard let him know that Oda Nobunaga was racing towards him.  Alone and beyond outnumbered, Kennyo grimaced and fled.  The men didn’t seem to follow, allowing Kennyo to slip into the trees, tracing his way to the town, change, and hide in one of the tea houses.

“The dainty man was right.  I’m impressed.”

“I have no desire to converse with you.”  Kennyo passed Shingen, intending to hide himself away in a corner.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend.”  Shingen followed Kennyo, leaving the man unable to move again, lest he draw attention.

“What do you want?”

Shingen tapped the table as if pointing to some unseen object, “In exchange for an exquisite item known as a ‘cupcake’ I am here to help you with those.”

“And ‘those’ would be?”

“With the kisses.  That’s what these are.”

Shingen shifted slightly, pointing to the pouch that didn’t quite fit right in Kennyo’s robes.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you would know of such strange things.”

“Well…” Shingen smirked, “it would be remiss of me to not offer myself to my friend as the first to receive such a gift.”

Kennyo eyed Shingen, “I’m not going to kiss you.”

“No love for your friend and brother.  I’m hurt.”

A low growl rumbled from the monk.

“I could see if one of the Oda army would be willing-”

Kennyo had grabbed the bag, shoving it almost violently to Shingen, “Fine.”

Shingen’s lips remained upturned as he opened the bag of chocolates.  “I remember when Sasuke brought these.  Delightful little things,” he said as he plucked one out, unwrapping it, and placing it in his mouth, giving a lewd sound as it melted on his tongue. 

He glanced to Kennyo, who looked somewhat ill, “Promiscuous lech.”

Shingen  and stood, leaning to kiss Kennyo atop his head, “Don’t forget to spread the kisses.  Last time someone defied the kiss gods, Kenshin lost his weapon.  Quite tragic.” 

Kennyo stared as Shingen left.  Spread?  To who?  He huffed, grabbing the chocolates, giving one to the old man that had served him.  “Give a kiss to your wife.  With blessings of the Buddha.”  It sounded weird to say, but Kennyo didn’t seem to know what else to make of it all.

As he moved through the town, he gave a piece to each he’d seen, directing them to kiss their spouses or lovers in exchange for the blessing.  If Buddha was going to make him spread kisses, he might as well spread them to any and all.  [This is penance, isn’t it?  The demon having to give the people blessings before he’s sent to hell]

“Kennyo-san…” He knew the voice.  He turned, finding you.  You held out your hand, expectantly.  Kennyo plunked a chocolate into your hand, “Blessings of the Buddha.”

You shook your head, “That’s not how you give a kiss.”  You stood on your toes, bringing your height to his face, planting a small kiss on his cheek, “I was told by someone that’s a correct kiss.  Thank you, Kennyo-san.”  You took your treat, unwrapped it, and ate your gift.  You bowed, pointing towards a path, “By the way, I was told that was your safest bet to not get caught.”

Kennyo sighed, shaking his head, “Your his woman and giving me help out of town.  Will wonders never cease.”  You smiled, bowing again, and moved past the man, leaving Kennyo to his escape.

He slipped into the forest, up the mountain, and to his camp, finding his men relatively unharmed, though rattled.  Someone had ratted your plan to the Oda AND Uesugi armies.  Luckily, the men had seen the forces and doubled back to wait orders from their leader.  Kennyo praised his men, assuring them there would be a next time.  For now, though, he was tired and was sure they were too, so rest was needed more.

He went to his little shack, settling himself on the floor contemplating the day’s events.  Small nails tapping let Kennyo know a guest arrived.  He picked the tiny creature and placed it in his lap.  He took out his final piece of Hershey’s, unwrapping it as he’d seen you and Shingen do, giving it to the small weasel.  “Here, Hozuki.  Blessings of the Buddha.”  Recalling what you and Shingen had done, Kennyo leaned down, giving Hozuki a kiss, the critter giving a squeak in response, taking the chocolate with gusto.  “Glad you like it.  Hope this completes this joy.  I don’t think I can tolerate more.”

Writer… Yes?

Are you SURE it’s just soda?

Cherry coke, why?

Is it original recipe coke?

Ha..ha..no

Kennyo has a new stamp Uh...yeah

Are there other new stamps

Uh…

Writer?

OH HEY LOOK, IT’S EDGAR

“The writer does sure love their strange humor”

[sunflowersoonyoung]

imperfection | eunha

w.c ↠ 2.0k

pairing ↠ eunha x fem!reader

genre/s ↠ fluff, high school au!, featuring best friend!yerin

description ↠ You have spent countless hours observing perfect student Jung Eunbi. But it’s not enough. You want to see what lies beneath the surface.

warning/s ↠ possible underaged drinking (it’s kinda ambiguous as their ages aren’t mentioned)

author’s note ↠ my first piece of writing for this blog! woo~! i have noticed a severe lack of gfriend fics on this site so hopefully i shall stay committed enough to fill that hole :3

-

"You’re staring at her again.”

Yerin had her fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm, dragging you back to reality with a lilted tone. Her crescent eyes were crinkled, filled with amusement. It was not the first time she had commented on that particular tendency of yours, one that would be near-impossible for you to give up.

Jung Eunbi’s seat was two from the front, on the far right. You had that fact engraved into your mind. From your place near the back of the classroom, you could freely view the side of her features; you could lose yourself in her, commit to memory her subconscious habits.

Yerin sat back in her chair, reflecting back to you a mischievous smile, her thoughts as enigmatic as ever to you.

Ever since your friendship had blossomed in early middle school, Yerin had acted almost as a guardian to you. That role had remained despite both of you being almost adults. Although, recently it had taken on a new flavour. She was a little concerned that you were missing something - or rather, someone - in your life, and had been giving you small nudges towards finding that someone.

“I know she’s pretty but it won’t rub off on us,” she teased, seemingly unaware that her beauty was comparable to Eunbi’s. It was only due to her tomboyish and brash nature that male students were too nervous to approach her, whereas Eunbi was famously regarded to be sweet and polite.

“That’s not what I’m hoping for,” you muttered, taking care to be quiet enough that Yerin did not hear you.

Rather, your true wish was to capture a glimpse of Eunbi’s inner workings. Although you had spent over two years observing the school jewel, much of what you witnessed was only surface deep. You only wanted to know her deeper.

It all had begun when the round-faced girl had raised her hand to answer every question during orientation. Her chestnut irises would glitter, her enthusiasm to start the school year shining through.

That day you found yourself enraptured. You were not alone, either; boys flocked to Eunbi, drowning her with flattery and grasping for any scraps of affection from her. They reminded you of starved animals. Perhaps you might act like that if you were in a similar position, with the confidence that you had somewhat of a chance with her.

You had long since crossed that idea from your mind. Initially, you enjoyed clinging to the fantasy. Nowadays, however, that small sliver of hope stung, so you tried to stifle it.

“Then, what are you hoping for? I’m curious.”

Shock washed over your skin as you realised Yerin had, in fact, overheard you earlier. You met her firm gaze reluctantly, noticing the way heat rose on your face. You had not revealed your sexuality to Yerin but knew very well she had suspicions. It was only natural; not once had you offered your attention to a boy.

Just as pressure was building for you to reply, the bell sounded. You leapt upon this opportunity, hastily tidying your desk as you knew Yerin would be more eager to head home than pursue this topic. You were correct in this assertion. Immediately she abandoned her interrogation to stuff her pack with her notebooks.

Another time, you thought with passing relief, you would save that conversation for later.

-

The gradual walk home with Yerin came paired with a lukewarm breeze. She usually overwhelmed your ears with chatter, but today her mouth remained closed. A comfortable silence draped the air.

Abruptly, she spoke.

“There’s a party tonight. I know you don’t like them, but I thought I’d invite you anyway. I heard Kim Mingyu is going,” a broad grin stretched across her full cheeks as if the knowledge of the school flirt attending was thrilling to you. You could think of nothing worse than ending up pressed to a wall, enduring the wrath of a tipsy boy deadset on peeling off your clothes.

Feeling like an evening out regardless of potential consequences, you heaved a sigh and responded, “I’ll go. What time?”

Yerin clasped your arm tightly, offering you a giddy smile as her eyes lit up, “really? I’ll pick you up! Is eight o’clock okay?” It was rare that you joined Yerin on her drunken antics, and her excitement was bubbling up on her expression.

Before you could respond affirmatively, she was already skipping ahead, far more animated than moments earlier - when she had seemed almost subdued.

“Make sure you wear something cute,” she hummed, turning on her heel to face you with interlocked fingers held at her chest. Dread began to weigh down your gut like a heavy stone; usually, you would come to regret these evenings out.

But it was too late to change your mind. Yerin was far too overjoyed, and even the thought of extinguishing that burned you with guilt.

-

The night air was stuffy, and after only a few moments of exposure, sweat was sticking your clothing to your figure. Hardly heeding Yerin’s advice to dress in something “cute”, you had put no effort in your appearance, attending in only jeans and a tucked-in shirt. Upon scrutinizing this outfit, Yerin had only frowned.

Compared to your friend, you felt significantly underdressed. Her lustrous hair cascaded down her back in waves, a short baby blue dress revealing the ivory gloss of her legs. She was bound to receive attention tonight, and so would you - unfortunately not the positive sort. Standing beside such a gorgeous girl would surely cast shadows upon you.

Inside, the proximity of bodies overwhelmed you with nausea and shortness of breath. If it were not for Yerin’s hand enclosed around yours, you would have directly avoided the mass for the outskirts of the room. Instead, you ended up amidst all of the chaos, thanks to her iron grasp.

Yerin had filled a cup with liquor-laced cola and busied herself with casual conversation, leaving you to observe your surroundings out of boredom. The lounge room had been modified somewhat, fold-out tables squeezed into corners, lined with alcoholic beverages and a variety of soft drinks. As you took in the room, your gaze settled upon a crimson leather sofa - empty, save for a petite girl curled up on the end.

It took you a brief moment to realise the aforementioned girl was none other than Jung Eunbi.

“Yerin,” you hissed, drawing her attention, “what is she doing here?”

As if this was all a part of some diabolical plan of hers, she shot you a grin, responding with a dismissive, “who knows?”

Eunbi had never shown her face at a party before, perhaps out of fear of smearing her good-girl image. She looked horribly out of place, nervously glancing around her as if worried that someone might approach her. Her fingers would intermittently adjust the collar of her white blouse, then return to swirling the contents of her plastic cup.

By the time you recognised that you were staring unashamedly at her, Eunbi was staring back.

Initially, you grew panic-filled, searching for something else to look at as if it were mere coincidence that you had met eyes. It was too late to pretend; you had now drawn her attention.

Feeling hot and embarrassed beneath her curiosity, it took enormous willpower not to turn your back on her. Instead, you allowed the tension between you both to heighten, until you flicked your gaze back up at her. It was her who went scarlet this time. If you had not just witnessed it, you might not have believed it.

The evening melted away, much of it spent exchanging shy glances and nervous smiles with Eunbi. Occasionally she would stand and refill her cup, and these were the only interruptions, apart from when Yerin (who was now quite intoxicated) stumbled backwards into you, causing the world you and Eunbi shared to shatter briefly. The tension between you both was obvious.

As the night reached its culmination, she stood, this time making a direct bee-line for the doorway you had witnessed various couples disappear through. Her steps were unsteady, and she appeared less than confident in her ability to walk.

As her figure retreated from your vision, cold hands grasped your shoulders from behind.

“Go on. I think she wants you to follow her.”

It was Yerin, giving you the shove you needed. You would thank her later when she would remember it.

Although most rooms were undoubtedly occupied, the study remained open; this is where Eunbi had found herself. Her palm leant against a dark wooden desk, back turned to you as her almond-shaped eyes skimmed the bookshelves. She was not truly looking at them, however, her mind far elsewhere. She turned hearing the sound of your footsteps coming to a halt, expression brightening in the wake of you.

“You’re (F/n), the pretty girl in my class, aren’t you?”

Nothing could have prepared you for a compliment so direct, a blush heating the tips of your ears. Eunbi had an air of innocence as she spoke, perhaps due to the alcohol in her bloodstream. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she proceeded, and you could not help but look.

“Hey, (F/n), will you listen to me while I talk?”

Though you hardly needed to be asked, the way her voice trembled would have convinced you regardless. Her eyes glistened with tears as she began to describe her situation, opening up to you with such desperation that you realised she had no one else.

You learned that Seonghwa, a popular boy with questionable motives, had been pursuing Eunbi and that despite her obvious disinterest her friend group was pushing her in his direction. Uncovering her imperfections somehow made her more attractive.

“I’m too scared to say anything. They already make fun of me because I only focus on my studies. But I don’t want to date him, I really don’t,” as she began to sob, shock coursed through your veins. Out of desperation, your hands found hers. She took this contact as permission to bury herself in your arms.

It was strange, how natural it felt to hold her. You were frightened to hug her too tightly, her figure small and fragile. She did not share the same fear apparently, because she was clinging to you as if she had been craving this moment forever. You allowed her to cry, tightening your embrace in an attempt to soothe her. It seemed to work; gradually, her quivering slowed till she was still.

Somehow, this was happening. All you had ever desired was to be the very person who Eunbi took solace in, and this night had lead to just that. Her easiness in trusting you made you realise, perhaps this romance was not as one-sided as you had always assumed.

When she withdrew, her raven hair falling over her face in disarray, you were cold without her. Would this be the last of a breathtaking moment? Your heart threatened to break over the mere idea.

“I’d much rather date you, (F/n). I like you a lot,” she murmured, as if unsure whether she was ready for you to hear it.

You heard it regardless of her intentions.

Time passed amidst a thick silence, as neither of you could find the right words to say. You were not sure where the inspiration to kiss her came from, an abnormally bold move from yourself by your admittance, but Eunbi’s warm lips were inviting you to continue so you did.

Her fingers reached up and tentatively brushed your cheeks, gently tilting your jaw to draw you a little closer. She left a sweet flavour behind, and when she peered at you her round eyes sparkled with a clarity you would have expected from someone sober. It was all you could do not to sweep her up and kiss her till her lips were swollen.

For a moment you peered back at each other almost in disbelief.

“Do you think we could try being together?” Eunbi’s voice shrunk, barely audible.

This time you failed to fight your urges, cupping her face to taste her once more, a wordless answer to her question.

[word-addict-lisette]

Make the most of what you have!

This world is not easy. Neither is this life easy. It has never been, and it will never be. Nobody is gonna stick around you for a life time. This a journey that you and you will complete. Your life is just about you. You will be there in it from the start to the end. Nobody is going to stay with you all the way to the end. You need to realize that. 

Nobody will come along and solve your problems and say, “I got this.” “I’ll solve your problems,”. You have to do it yourself. Because your problems are yours. Not theirs. No matter who you are. You cannot burden another with your problems UNLESS! That its a concern and it is necessary they know about it. That is a great issue. In such cases, sharing your problems helps considerably.

But, you have to use the time you have wisely. Very wisely. Make mistakes,  experiences, and memories. All of us get a point in our life where we feel that our life is going the wrong way. Then, stop. Take a deep breath in. Unwind. Drink some coffee and Handle it. Give yourself some care. Remember that storms Do Not last forever. You have the power to change your life. To make a difference. Re-invent yourself. Improve yourself. And make a change for the better.

All that matters is that you are happy. Doesn’t matter if it is due to a change. Or due to a difference. Or just because you are the way you are. All that is that you are happy. 

Be who you are for as much as you can. be humble and don’t take happy moments for granted.

Do more of what makes you happy. Be brave. Be yourself. You only have this one life. Why let it go waste? Do what feels good. Do more of it. Don’t stop until you are satisfied with yourself. Because pleasing yourself is all that matters. Make sure that you know you’ve given your best. Take risks. This is your one life. Yours and yours only. Let’s not let This one life go waste.

Make yourself proud and start now! Don’t worry about and tomorrow and leave the past behind. Live in the moment.

Nobody knows you better than yourself. Accept yourself and be yourself and most of all love your self. Go out there and never let your ambition waver. Always be a work in progress.

The quickest and the best way to be happy is to be selfless yet selfish... both to a healthy extent. Cause at a point everything becomes unhealthy. Simplicity is the key! Not everything needs to be talked about. Sometimes somethings are best kept in your heart or as secrets. 

Everything will happen for a reason and everything will happen by it’s time. Everyday you gain new experiences that shape you. Your personality is a work in progress and let it be so. Remember that no-one is born perfect. Because the definition of perfect varies from person to person. But for me. My perfect is me. That me which learns from experiences grows with a certain maturity and accepts everything. But for me, That perfect just gets perfected further everyday.

The difference between who you are and what you want to b is what you do! Stay true to yourself in whatever you do. Be careful who you surround yourself with and who you trust. Everyone is fighting a battle that you know nothing about! Be kind. Always. 

Go up to people without pre-judgement. Offer the world a smile and see how things change. Often you will be afraid of doing stuff. But remember the fear is only created in your head. Don’t let it restrain you. Conquer your fears. Face it. Change the game. Don’t let the game change you.

F.E.A.R. has two meanings: Forget Everything And Run OR  Face Everything And Rise. The choice is yours.

You have to know that not everyone will be nice to you. They will hurt you and betray you. But that is just what life is. Don’t let it stop you from falling in love over and over again. Don’t let that hold you back. Make new friends get deeper into relations with people. Those moments that you experience in the way are worth every heartbreak or rejection you will ever face!

Friends are family that will cheer you up on your bad days and share the happy days with you. Don’t forget: You are never alone. 

Never forgets the ones you love  and the ones that love you: Friends and family. Together you create the memories that last forever. The good ones and the bad ones. Be loyal to the ones that you care about.

Sometimes you get disappointed be people. Sometimes you have to draw a line and cross out somebody wo isn’t good for you. I know it hurts to let go. But sometimes it is necessary. No heartbreak is ever going to kill you. Time heals all wounds. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Be independent. Be Selfless. People will hurt you in life. But you have to deal with it. Don’t judge anyone for their flaws because at the end of the day that is what makes them vulnerable and imperfect. And that is lovely. Don’t treat people the way they treat you. Treat people better. Treat people the way you want to be treated. Always be the person who loves more. Gives more. Be the person who tries harder, loves stronger and cares more.

Be the person who answers their messages, show up to their commitments, and does not leave others hanging or guessing at their eternally vague intentions. Be the person you wish you were dating. If you are sick of the game, then stop playing it. If you are tired of the crap, then cut it. Just do it. Because the last thing this world needs is one more indifferent person!

Don’t fight evil with evil.

Remember how lucky you are to live in your country. You have the chance to live in peace and voice your opinion without being persecuted. Go out and stand up for it then. Stand against what is wrong. Help the ones who need your help. Remember that we live in a world so hateful that some people would rather die then be who they are.

It is only a tiny minority of the world’s population who have the privileges to eat so much that they can’t have dessert. Only a handful wo have the privileged standard of living and can witness first world problems. So don’t waste the time that is given to you. So reach for the stars and strive for more than you think is possible. Be a daydreamer and a night thinker.

Be sure that in the end everything will be good. and if it’s not good, then it’s not the end yet.

Live a life to express and not to impress. Give everyday the chance to be the best day of your life. Remember that a little party never killed nobody. You have the freedom to choose your identity. Never forget that. You can be whoever you want to be.  

FALL IN LOVE WITH BEING ALIVE AND BEING YOU.

It is always better to be out in the field being trampled on the ground than to be walking on the sidelines and just watching and feeling superior for never trying.

So, tell me. What do you think of this? Do you agree with what it hasti say? Do you think it helps you? Do you wish to make that one change? Do you wish to make a change in the society? Do you want to stand up for people and rights? Do you want to be the person who lives freely? Does this inspire something inside you? How do you feel after reading this? Have you been disappointed and hurt by people? What did you do about it? Have you loved someone relentlessly? How did it feel? Can you relate to this?

Tell me. Tell me all about it. I want to know about it. Everything. That's what motivates me to write more. So don't fear. Just tell me. Tell me anything. I'm here to listen to you. No matter how old you are or who you are. You want to tell something to someone. I'm right here.

Don't hold back. Tell me everything. I love hearing from all of you.

[hedgebelle]

Cultural References in “They Are Out There Saying”

It took me forever to compile it, but here it is! A brief explanation on all the references to Japanese culture I made in my JayDick Summer Exchange fic “They Are Out There Saying”.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25707886/chapters/62420596

When I got the prompt from @paperempires​ calling for the Batman Ninja verse, I was like, you want 16th century Japan? I SHALL DELIVER.

Ok, so first, let’s talk about geography.

Right now, Japan is divided into prefectures, but in the past there were provinces. Check out the map below.

Green: Hida Province

Aka the province where this fanfic actually takes place. Nowadays the Hida-Takayama region in Gifu Prefecture.

Located there is the hidden village of the Bat Clan, the calligrapher's house, as well as real places briefly mentioned: Takayama city with its castle (ruins) and Tenshōji Temple (associated with True Pure Land school of Buddhism), and Shirakawa Village (diamond shape on the map).

Btw, Shirakawa Village is a UNESCO world heritage site and overall a lovely place. If you have a chance to visit it, please do. Here, check it out 😊.

Also, Hida is one of the two places in all of Japan where gneiss, a type of metamorphic rock, can be found. A piece of trivia I learned from my best friend (who might or might have not dared me to fit gneiss somewhere in the fanfic) 😉. The second place where gneiss can be found - again, true fact - are Oki Islands, the archipelago north of the Grand Izumo Shrine.

Dark red: Owari Province

Nowadays part of Aichi Prefecture.

According to the Batman Ninja (the version with Japanese voice over) Joker made himself a feudal lord of this province. Which is kinda interesting, seeing as Oda Nobunaga (1534-1582), one of the key players during the warring states period who started the unification of Japan, was a lord of that domain.

Located in Owari is also Alfred's teahouse 😊.

Yellow: Kai Province

Nowadays, it's Yamanashi Prefecture.

Penguin made himself a feudal lord of this domain. In Batman Ninja he really commanded penguins wearing samurai armour 😂.

Violet line: Tōkaidō Road

A tract that linked Kyoto, a seat of the emperor, and Edo (present day Tokyo), the seat of shogun.

So, traveling the Tōkaidō Road didn't become a thing until the 17th century ^^". But I figured, if castles can be weaponized in this verse, then I can send Jason down this road 😊.

On the side note, travelling the Tōkaidō Road became quite a subject in the culture of the Edo Period (1600-1868). For example, check out these famous ukiyo-e.

Star: the Grand Shrine of Izumo

Very much a real place. One of the three most important Shintō shrines in all of Japan. Worshipped there is Okuninushi no Okami, god of marriage. When praying in the Grand Shrine, a pilgrim is supposed to clap their hands four times, not just two like everywhere else. That's because in that Shrine one is not praying just for themselves, but for their destined partner too. 

The Grand Shrine is located in the Izumo Province - nowadays a part of Shimane Prefecture. 

*Even today Izumo is called a place where fates are being brought together 😉.

Circle: Mt Hiei

Again, a real place, located very close to Kyoto. The Enryakuji temple located on that mountain historically had big influence also due to the fact, it commanded its own army of warrior monks. Some further reading on them, if your interested, is here.

(Btw, the Enryakuji Temple is also a UNESCO world heritage site.)

It was emperor Shirakawa (1053-1129) who one said that the only things he does not have control over are the roll of dice, the waters in Kamo River and the warrior monks of the Enryakuji Temple.

*Kamo River flows through Kyoto.

Square: Inabayama Castle

Nowadays called Gifu Castle, located in Gifu City, Gifu Prefecture 😊. One of few castles built on top of a mountain.

Triangle: Mt Osore

A real place, considered one of the most sacred in all of Japan. A site of Bodaiji Temple. Due to the volcanic activity in the area, there's sulfur both in the air and in the lake right by the temple - hence its striking colour. Otherwise, the landscape is barren. 

It is said that Mt Osore matches the description of Buddhist hell, and holds the entrance to the afterlife. For some further, light reading check here.

If you think to yourself wooow that's a lot of references then fear not - there's more 😂.

Other references

Fuke Sect of Buddhism 

Monks of this sect, as a part of their practise, wore basket hats, played flute, and were on constant pilgrimage. 

Travel, however, used to be heavily restricted, so in exchange for a special travel permit, monks were asked to spy for the shogun. Also, ninja (and other people involved in espionage) were known to donn on the attire of a Fuke Sect monk. For that reason, monks were sometimes asked to play on their flutes to prove their identity.

In Batman Ninja Jason is operating undercover as one of those monks.

Check this, for some further reading.

Direction of the Demon’s Gate

It’s north-west. It was believed that demons and evil spirits enter through that direction, hence it was considered unlucky.

Rokuyō (lucky/unlucky days)

A circle of six days, three of which are thought to various degrees lucky, another three - to various degrees unlucky. The most unlucky one is called butsumetsu and apparently is meant to symbolise the day Budda died.

Ri

Old unit of measurement. 1 ri ≈ 3.9 km ≈ 2.4 mi

Sexagenary cycle

A cycle of 60 years. It was traditionally used in China for time reckoning, and was known in other South-East Asian countries too.

For some further reading click here.

Golden leaf

Kaga Province (north-east of Hida; now part of Ishikawa Prefecture) is known as the biggest producer of golden leaf in all of Japan.

Zen Circle

On the photo below:

It’s an important symbol in Zen Buddhism that stands for enlightenment, absolute, the void. In Japanese calligraphy and sumi-e (ink painting), drawing the circle is seen as an expression of absolute freedom of the mind that lets the body create. If it’s closed, it symbolises perfection. If not, it becomes an expression of wabi-sabi - a concept in Japanese aesthetics that translates to beauty of imperfection.

Kappa

One of the fantastic creatures that appears in many Japanese folktales. Kappa is a water demon that (unsurprisingly) dwells in lakes and rivers. It is rather mean and known to cause mischief, but surprisingly enough - very fond of cucumbers.

Ogre (oni)

One of the fantastic creatures featured in Japanese folklore. Usually portrayed with red skin, horns, and a tall, hulking figure; as a concept somewhat similar to demons or devils, as they represent everything evil and harmful (and also, oni reside in the eight great hells). It was believed a human wicked beyond any redemption might turn into an ogre.

Haikai-no renga

A genre of linked verse poetry. It is made of 18 or 36 verses that alternatively have 17 (5-7-5) or 14 (7-7) syllables. It is less formal than an earlier genre, renga, and as such is supposed to be lighter, witty, comical even. There aren't as many rules dictating which verse is supposed to have a direct allusion to which, how many times and in which verses certain motives (like flowers, moon, seasons) can be mentioned. 

Still, the first verse is supposed to contain kigo, so a word or phrase that indicates the season - in the fanfic it’s May (rice planting season) which is classified as early summer in the old lunar calendar - or in some other clever way gives an allusion to the environment the poetry meeting took place in. The first verse is also supposed to be written by the guest of honour which is why Jason was asked to compose it 😊. Important is also the third verse, as that’s where the theme of the whole haikai-no renga is officially established. 

From the first verse of haikai-no renga evolved possibly the most recognisable form of Japanese poetry - haiku.

Lovers’ suicide

A suicide committed together at the same time by the lovers whose shared affection defied the rules of society and/or obligations to their families. Before commiting the act, they would usually pray to be reborn together on the same lotus flower in the Pure Land. 

Lovers’ suicide is a theme featured in plays for pupper theater bunraku, most prominently The Love Suicides at Sonezaki written by Chikamatsu Monzaemon.

Pure Land

In a nutshell: According to some schools of Buddhism in Japan, Pure Land where people can be reborn and practice pure version of Buddhism, thus are able to finally gain enlightenment (which is impossible when alive, because the practice in the land of the living is warped, impure).

Please, take my way too short explanation with a grain of salt. It might not seem that way, but I’m not all that knowledgeable about Buddhism ^^”.

Nenbutsu prayer

Practised in True Pure Land Buddhism. It’s basically a recitation of a short phrase that translates to “I take refuge in Buddha Amida”.

Kannon

The bodhisattva associated with compassion.

Vengeful ghost

It was believed that a person who harboured a deep grudge or hatred in their last living moments towards those who had wronged them could become a vengeful spirit.

 *Hoichi the Earless - one of the traditional horror stories. In this story, vengeful ghosts (of the fallen Taira clan) want to take with them a blind monk because he beautifully plays on biwa (traditional instrument). Once his brethren realise the danger Hoichi is in, they paint his whole body in Buddhist sutra, safe for his ears. Because of that, when the ghosts appear again, Hoichi - safe for his ears - is invisible to them. Spoiler alert, the ghosts take Hoichi’s ears, thus the earless in the title. Check out here for some further reading.

Ten Virtues of Tea

Text attributed to a Buddhist monk Myōe (1173-1232. It lists all the properties of green tea beneficial to the human body and soul. 

Translation can be found here.

Portuguese firearms

Historically, the first Europeans Japanese people came in contact with were Potuguese traders. They introduced many European goods including firearms. 

On the unrelated note, the Potuguese in that time period were referred to as Nanbanjin (南蛮人) which translates to southern barbarians.

Eight great hells

...are the concept of hell in the traditional culture in a nutshell. The concept itself was heavily influenced by Buddhism. 

Further reading is available here.

Shinto wedding ceremony

While it incorporates many rites, the most core one (as far as I know) features the groom and the bride taking turns drinking sake (rice wine) from three cup, each slightly bigger than the other. When drinking, they are supposed to sip three times. 

In feudal times, wedding ceremonies started with an elaborate bridal procession to the groom’s house. There, the dowry would be presented, blessings would be given, and then the bride and groom would take turns drinking sake as described above. 

...Okay, I believe that’s it. Thank you for reading!

[constablegoo]

@astralglam​​​​ filed a report .

mint: does your muse view themself as virtuous & moral? what do these words mean to them?

OHOHO. hey hi ily. this is, of course, one of odo’s deepest ongoing battles, and the moment he stops questioning it is the moment he becomes a founder.

the founders grant themselves god status.  GOD!  status. they just reach out and pluck it. Within their range of power, the founders become unquestionably Just and Virtuous and Moral, their Word becomes Law, it becomes “the way things are” and “fact” and they create their own reality stemming from thousands of years of intense xenophobia. they’re above it all. gods don’t make mistakes, right? sure, maybe changelings were hunted and feared ages ago but they still fear it, and that drive for Order and Control over the galaxy is now encoded into their genes and they place a companion structure into the genes of every other species they control, subjugating them to the founders’ own cozy position as Gods, or-- ‘gods’. the founder (i rly don’t like saying “female” founder so she’s THE Founder. she speaks for the link.) makes it quite clear on many occasions that the founders are not here to negotiate. they fully intend to control EVERYTHING at any cost. it is absolutely  chilling  when she cuts garak down with: “they’re dead. you’re dead. cardassia is dead.” and draws the line between the dominion and everyone else miles deep into the sand.

that same genetic coding is one of the first semi-concrete things odo comes to understand about himself and, horribly, he’s landed into conditions under the occupation that very easily could have taken advantage of a less meticulous or stubborn changeling. no, odo says initially (and incorrectly), i am not bajoran** and i am not cardassian and i stand apart from either side of this conflict and so i am bound to PURE Virtue and Morality because of it. he can’t be bribed or bought or won over, and he won’t allow for anything less than a kind of incorruptibility. this effectively wins him allies (and enemies) on both sides, however -- that’s just not how the universe works. the truth of it is that no matter how much he tells himself he is not a part of their regime, his working with the cardassians makes him a collaborator in that he has then recognized their authority and ultimately upheld their legitimacy, even if he never agreed with the cause, even if he was also on some level a casualty of it. at some point when he moves past ‘contract’ investigation and begins to work permanently, he falls into the trap of thinking Order is the same thing as Justice... huge yikes. in that moment he becomes a true and apathetic villain, but he’s subsequently haunted by the resulting execution of innocents. it shakes something up in him. years pass and he still wonders, what other mistakes has he made? what other less direct consequences of his ‘neutral’ arbitration exist? he (and everyone around him) has to live without really knowing, and it’s a constant reminder to him of the power he holds and it informs his understanding of what Real (and imperfect) Justice Means.

**sidenote but later in s7 he introduces himself as ‘from bajor’ and AAAAAA. its good. very good. yeah, you’re bajoran, odo. he gets it now.

Mirror odo is really the ultimate example of an odo having taken those instincts to extremes in an environment that rewarded him for them -- there is no guilt there, and even a sadistic kind of pleasure in it. i’d argue that gaia!odo is another, less extreme example of an odo who’s been alone too long and lost sight of things when he single-mindedly (and against kira’s wishes) chooses her (one person) over 8000. like holy shit? NOT ok? uhhuhhhhfff. anyway. very fortunately, neither of these are OUR odo, but act as great foils to reflect on the worst (bastard cop) qualities or potential qualities of our goo pushed to highly visible extremes, which star trek just loves to do all the time.

but regular/prime odo isnt exactly a rule-follower, either. throughout his life, he frequently takes things into his own hands, uses his abilities to his advantage, spies, wiretaps, eavesdrops, and yes, harasses [quark] sometimes -- he develops his own set of values and personal rules and follows them; even starfleet comes in wary of him and how he operates and hes on thin ice. but because of possibly his most redeeming quality, odo is able to adapt those self-ordained values toward something increasingly honest: for how rigid he can be in personality, he is HIGHLY influenced by the world around him,  listens hard  to what his friends and allies have to say and adapts that feedback; this allows him to evolve and grow and take important matters to heart. he becomes more flexible and better able to hold onto what’s really most important after locking into a decision, because above all else, he is passionately committed to doing the Right Thing. he PLEADS with himself in things past, “your job is to find the truth, not obtain convictions.” by his tendency to push back against what is laid down as ‘law’ (something he becomes more and more aware of and effective at doing) as not always being good or right, or necessarily even creating Order (the thing he’s driven genetically to want), he prepares himself to challenge the most deadly voice of authority -- that of his own people.

so... yes and no. odo’s role and persona as ‘your average security chief’ might dictate that he be virtuous and moral, but he so obviously can’t fit the same exact mold as others in his position -- he has these insane abilities and this mind-consuming nature and it requires he tread with extra care, but he also has a potential for more adaptive, more nuanced morality. he has to build up his own definitions to the words, constantly examine and tease and test them, or else he risks straying too far from what he really wants to achieve -- harmony, honest justice. he has to accept that he’s a part of the system he operates in (not, in fact, alone or isolated! something he actually wants), and know that he is not exempt from making the wrong choice, just like anybody else.

carnation: what is your muse’s relationship with their gender? how do they express or not express this relationship?

ODO AND GENDER!!! i love odo and gender. let’s take this one step at a time. he starts out as an amorphous glob -- he has no gender. there’s no basis for assignment, no culture of difference, and all the goos are goo. odo takes on the shape of the first living thing he sees / the thing he sees most frequently: dr mora. he adopts an image of masculinity from mora and he adopts the hair. that’s about it, and it’s pretty much arbitrary. (maybe the hair is simple enough for his skills, too?) the next people odo meets are also these very masculine, military, cardassian leaders, so again -- this is all he knows! this is neutrality. i imagine it takes him some time to work out what the differences in gender are, and sex, and orientation, romantic vs sexual stuff, all of that. it’s all got cultural baggage he knows nothing about and does not experience, and he’s also dealing with multiple, clashing cultures to boot. since he doesnt have any strong inherent leaning, he simply opts out. he/him becomes his default because thats where he started, thats what he’s been able to successfully present and how people know him, and, terrifyingly, under cardassian rule, it probably offered a bit of safety, too, which was obviously something he needed at the time.

way way way way way down the line in season seven, odo asks kira to (paraphrasing) look at me. what do you see? [i see you.] but this is NOT me, this is only a shape ive assumed in order to fit in. she says, yes, i know that. but this is who you have chosen to be. “a man. a good and honest man.” (i knowww shes not really talking abt gender here BUT) its hard as a trans person not to read the metaphor. he’s chosen to express SOMETHING. he’s chosen something other than what he was given (neutrality) and although he doesnt personally buy into what ‘masculinity’ “should be” (ie the ferengi, smh) / would certainly not argue he doesnt feel non-binary, this is how he has presented all his life, its how hes been treated, and it is what he has chosen to adhere to. there’s a choice in that, kira’s right, and now it reflects something about him.

parallel this, i’ll mention the “female” founder again bc of course there is no discernable reason for her to have a gender -- other than to appeal (im not talking sexually here although there’s,, obviously weird shit happening with the link... yike) to odo in the sense that until that point odo has lived with “gendered” individuals and, i think importantly, kira is with them when they first meet. i think its safe to say the founder saw her, figured she was a friend/ally to odo or at least familiar to him, and took her general representation to appeal as a friend/ally.

otherwise... why, honestly? the founder’s got NO love of humanoids lmao why would she bother.

anyway i’d like to see odo experiment a bit. because when hes safe, he can!! aside from his own doubts and insecurities about shapeshifting, at some point he really has no reason not to, at least a little bit. really, it should just be another thing to practice, much like becoming a convincing rock or a leaf, its just that there are other significances in the cultures around him. i’d just like to see him loosen up a little. have fun. grow ur hair out a bit, odo, why are u still looking like ur terrible dad.