#and this isn’t even getting into everything else cause i need to get off tumblr rn but

[sammygender]

but tbh even when i was a deangirl like 90% of deans appeal was that undercurrent of resentment and damage he has. how hes so damaged by his childhood but so unwilling to begin to heal because it would mean rejecting every brick he's built himself from - hes modelled himself on john, or how he imagined john to be (bc i actually truly think dean is and becomes way more macho and posturing than john ever was! and theres something to be said of how all his imitations of john are aesthetic, his jacket and his music and the beer he drinks, and how john was gone so Often, how we never see him in the flashback episodes save once (ofc doylist explanation is bc they didnt want to get the actor but).... the absence of a father ruling their life more than a father...).

and obviously that is going to lead to someone who cant Get Better or Break The Cycle cause he wed himself to it when he was 4 and has grown entwined with it and how is he meant to Really confront that? sure he can say 'my father was an obsessed bastard' or hurtle insults that sam's like john as a way to get under sam's skin and realise that he has #daddyissues but he'll always return back to the steady belief that john still tried his best and was still fundamentally good. like. family is hell. and dean's whole thing is and has always been the family.

[mrhaitch]

Mr. Haitch, i’m interested in your opinion of Harry Potter. Specifically, characters that have complex or deeper stories like Dumbledore.

There’s a lot to be said for wizarding society, but much to analyze about the perceived “good” characters in the series. A big theme is good vs evil but like many things it’s never cut and dry.

Dumbledore: Personally, apart from Voldemort’s need to eradicate muggles, the worst person in that series is Dumbledore. Every time I say that others are like “but he’s a good guy” and I’m like, Is he? Because he’s all about the greater good allegedly but children are in the crossfire. I feel like a good man with that much power would step in much more directly when his 6th year student is adopted into a cult, instead of sending a double agent that’s still in love with someone he knew in school to keep an eye on him and help out.

Harry had to, in Snape’s words, be raised like a pig for slaughter, but there’s so many ways he could have been guided and helped throughout and it really grinds my gears. I feel like a hands off approach isn’t the way to go when one of your students is a walking horcrux. 

Dumbledore is a selfish man who even continued his interest in the deathly hallows past James Potter’s death (invisibility cloak) despite an argument over them causing the death of his sister. He has done good things, great things, even. But he is not good in my opinion.

I have a lot of things to expound on about that, the story itself and about the author unfortunately, but I’ll leave it here before you get a novel from me.

- 🌻

P.S. you and your wife are very lovely people to converse with and ask philosophical questions, and I thoroughly enjoy the further conversations that come from that. Breaking down literature with you both is so fun. Thank you for joining us on tumblr dot com to share more with us. 💗

Dumbledore's a complicated one, certainly, and his worldview - as glimpsed through his actions - is ruthless, much like you said. I wouldn't necessarily call him selfish as the majority of his decisions are what you'd expect from someone who takes the 'long view'. Everything he does is calculated to achieve an ultimate end he refuses to share with anyone else. If he's guilty of any sin, I'd be tempted to say pride or arrogance, more specifically. His failure to include even the people in his innermost circle in his thinking speaks to that - not necessarily because he doesn't trust them, but because he judges them incapable of doing what is necessary. You could argue he did all of this with his eyes open, and suffered a great deal of personal crises - just privately - but we've only got the text to work from and the rest supposition.

Harry as a 'pig for slaughter' sparked something, actually, because what we're dealing with here is a variation on Ursula Le Guin's Those Who Walk Away from Omelas. Summarised briefly:

Omelas is a utopia, for each and every person that lives there. No hunger, no poverty, no discrimination, no injustice. Every day is a feast and a festival, the city filled with boundless joy and music and frivolity and love. However - when each citizen comes of age they learn the truth of the city. The city can only thrive as it does because one child is subjected to the highest level of suffering. They were born, raised, and live alone, in filth and squalor, never knowing human kindness, touch, safety, or security. A child living totally alone and never knowing love.

Each citizen must then make a choice: to return to their lives and accept the child as a necessary sacrifice, or to leave for parts unknown, never to return. [My own summary, from memory]

Harry is that one child in Omelas, subjected to intentional deprivation to mould him into the kind of person he needs to be to save the world. This is done intentionally, by someone who has thought things through. They know what they're doing, the harm involved, and do it anyway. It's a sacrifice of one to save many.

Philosophically speaking, we're talking about the ethical calculus of Utilitarianism (greatest good for the greatest number), where almost any action can be justified if it results in a net good for the world.

What we're left with at the end are our values and how the balancing of the scales affects our gut and our hearts. Either the suffering of the minority to benefit the majority is a terrible but necessary thing, or that suffering leaves the outcome tainted and points to a sickness at the heart of those who knowingly benefit from it, or engineered the situation itself.

“Omelas already exists: no need to build it or choose it. We already live here – in the narrow, foul, dark prison we let our ignorance, fear, and hatred build for us and keep us in, here in the splendid, beautiful city of life. . . .” - Ursula Le Guin

Speaking candidly: I'm in the latter category. Dumbledore is a terrible, awful person, who used the most brutal and cruel methods possible to achieve his ends. He's dishonest, duplicitous, and his actions are borne of a calculating arrogance. But, within the logic of the story itself, he's also necessary. We can never know if there was an alternative because we're never showed one. Frankly - I doubt Dumbledore gives a shit what anyone thinks, and would've done it again, the same way, a thousand times if he thought it necessary.

[I'm working on a slightly longer thing about Harry Potter - because someone made the mistake of asking for my thoughts a few days back. It'll largely focus on words of power, how language shapes social reality, and M Nourbese Philip whose work I heavily recommend. I'll finish it, some day]

[titleleaf]

[cw discussion of animal illness/medical crises; emotional manipulation; talking about scams and scammers]

Jsyk: I do not and will not boost or reblog fundraising posts on request or when they’re directly linked to me by people who I don’t know, often people who don’t even follow me. Mutual aid posts are a big part of the social media ecosystem especially on tumblr but there are also plenty of scams that exploit genuine sources of affinity within marginalized communities (disabled people, trans people, people with precarious housing situations, etc) in an incredibly cynical manner.

I just received a request like this from a blog that was

all of two days old

filled with an apparently random selection of fandom posts and memes, all reblogged without any kind of tags or commentary, even a fandom name

...with no other kind of original posts whatsoever, not even shitposts or personal posts, nothing

not following me or anyone else I know

using an icon meant to evoke all kinds of immediate emotional reactions of affinity and sympathy — sweet-looking blue-haired smol bean picrew in front of the trans flag

The request itself could have been perfectly genuine — request for financial help with vet bills for a sick cat, "please help, save his life, I need to raise money in 2 weeks for surgery" — but it's surrounded by a thicket of screaming red flags.

(Payments made using PayPal’s “friends & family” functionality aren't covered by purchase protection and cannot be reimbursed, even if the payment was made under false pretenses. Cool.)

This shit is incredibly shady and incredibly manipulative. Lots of stuff to evoke strong emotions and sympathy; repeated calls to action and a super short timetable to save a poor cat’s life — all of this stuff is plausible by itself but these elements of the request are not incidental. The request itself is calculated to provoke a sense of intense urgency -- worry for the poor cat, sympathy for the owner -- and a sense of shame if you catch yourself hesitating to donate or spread the word. (What kind of heartless person doesn't want to help a cat? Wants to let a cat die? Wants to kill a cat? What kind of bad leftist ignores a poor trans person's cry for help? I'm a trans person and a cat lover, and when my cat was in the hospital I was inconsolable.) By itself, urgency isn’t a red flag -- emergencies have a way of emerging suddenly, pets get sick, shit costs money -- but combined with everything else about this post it absolutely is one. In the comments on the post it only took one person saying “hey, watch out, this post has some red flags for a scam so I’d hesitate before reblogging it” for comments to be turned off entirely.

Do I know for a die-hard certainty that this post was fraudulent and the OP was running a scam? I absolutely do not, and I'm not interested in teaching anyone how to scam better either. But if you *do* have a genuine fundraising post for any cause, even an urgent one: don't do it from a nearly-blank blog and don’t message random strangers about it, even if you think it’ll get your post more traction. You have no way of knowing their financial situation or if they're in any kind of position to donate, or whether they themselves are in tough financial straits.

I'm not anti-fundraising or anti-mutual-aid -- people on this site helped me pay for top surgery without going into crazy medical debt, that would not have been possible without the goodwill and generosity of other marginalized people -- but I've also ignorantly passed on scam messaging and been tricked out of money I seriously needed, not just by strangers either. The vast majority of scams function through high-pressure tactics and emotional manipulation. This shit is 101-level social engineering and you're going to encounter it all over the place in life, not just on social media. Learn about social engineering, keep your eyes peeled for potential dishonesty, and don't fall for it or spread this kind of messaging around to victimize someone else.

[unabashegirl]

Safely

Author's note: HAPPY NEW YEARS! I hope you all have plenty of blessings this year. I wish you lots of love and health. In honor of the holiday, I wanted to give you a little piece. A unique piece that only my members of Patreon will be able to read further on. I've been writing it for a few days, and I hope you like it. I was thinking of making her an OC (Patreon exclusive) and make other pieces based on their relationship and surroundings. Let me know in the comments if you liked it!

DISCLAIMER: I decided to make this an OC, exclusively for my Patreon's, but I wanted to share at least ONE PIECE with my Tumblr followers.

--

It had been an exceptionally long day at work, but she was finally getting into bed and getting some rest. The apartment was noticeably quiet, causing her to struggle to catch sleep. On top of it, her dog was away, and she felt unprotected. Either way, sleep got the most of her, and she allowed herself to fall into it.

“Hello?” Her phone had been ringing for what felt like hours even though it had only been two minutes. It had rung long enough to wake her up. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to check the caller ID. Whomever it was they had pissed Y/N off.

“Kitten” A single word was enough to get rid of any grogginess from her. She pulled her phone away from her ear, trying to read the time. It read 3:06 causing her to groan.

“Please, don't tell me you are arrested again” She heard his attractive chuckle from the other side of the phone. She threw the covers off her body and sat up. Y/N already knew the answer, and she didn’t need it to come out of his lips.

“Where are you?”

“At the apartment” Y/N grabbed the first pair of jeans that she could find in the darkness.

“Why?” She rolled her eyes. He was going to lecture her. She was supposed to be staying in the house with the family. “The fuckin’ dog isn’t even there with yeh! You know where you are supposed to be when I am not home” She could picture him, spatting into the phone, worried about things that weren’t as important.

“This whole authoritarian attitude isn’t such a panty dropper like when we first met” She teased, enjoying how easily his buttons could get pushed.

“Call Henry and tell him to get here and take your ass home”

“Now?”

“Yes. Now, Y/N!” he hung up on her. He worried more about her safety than his. Sure, he had taught her how to defend herself, but he could never be too safe. He wasn’t rude or pushed her around, but his priority was always her safety. Ever since they met on that rainy day.

A stupid mistake had landed him in jail again. The fucking police officers had intercepted one of his calls and had busted in before Harry could put a bullet between the other man’s eyes. Although, the police were the least of his problems.

“Styles? You are free to go” Harry smiled with cockiness as he walked past him. “We’ll get you don’t worry” He stopped and turned to look at him. His eyes scanned for his name on his super chest.

“Copper isn’t?” He was straight out of the academy, and unfortunately, he still had no idea who he was dealing with. “I’ll make sure to remember your name officer cooper” It was an empty promise. He had no intention of going after the young officer. He just enjoyed making people uncomfortable. Harry also hated police officers.

“Here is your shit, Styles” an older officer threw him his phone, wallet, keys, and everything else that he had been carrying in his pockets when he had been detained. He remained quiet, picking his stuff off the counter. He could see Henry and the rest of his closest men outside, waiting for him. “I hope you see you soon here”. He just rolled his eyes and continued walking.

“Give me a cigarette” he interrupted Henry before he could say something to him. He had a few ears to pull or cut off. Henry closed his mouth; without any response, he gave him what he craved. “Let’s go home,” he said after he had gotten in the car. Harry didn’t want to say anything until he was in the comfort and safety of his house. He also craved Y/N. He wanted to see her, but he had to wait because business always came first for the family.

“Harry—”

“I SAID TAKE US HOME!” Henry then feared for his life.

----------

The state was on the outskirts of the city, and he preferred it like that. Even his father had opted for it when he was in charge. Of course, that had been a long time ago. It was much safer for everyone. The entire place was always patrolled by his men and cameras had been set up in every nook and cranny of the property which was why he had been so upset with Y/N earlier. Because there was no safer place.

“Lineup” he sternly dictated; he wasted no time. Harry was going to teach them a lesson in the foyer. He had no energy or patience to take them downstairs or to the other house where he usually took care of business. He lit up another cigarette, trying to ease the anger that was eating him up from the inside out. “Hope you don’t mind” he smiled sadistically, yanking a gun off one of his men. “What’s your name?”.

“Arthur, boss” He gulped heavily, trying his best not to pee on himself.

Harry Styles had a reputation. He ran London’s underworld. Men feared him and he liked it. His father and mother had been assassinated when he was only ten years old. His sister and he had been the only survivors in the family.

“Do you know how many men oversee my personal safety, Arthur?”

“N-no sir”

“Take a guess” he insisted as he finished his cigarette.

“20?”  Arthur looked around trying to estimate how many men were forming the line. Harry kept walking from one extreme to the other. He observed the men that had taken an oath to protect and be loyal to him.

“Get in the fuckin’ line, Henry!” He yelled, noticing that he stood behind him. “You know how I hate to repeat myself!”

“But boss—” Harry took four strides in his direction, and suddenly he was in his face. Henry closed his eyes for a second as he felt the cold metal against his temple.

“Don’t be fooled, Henry. I don’t care if you are my second in command. I won’t hesitate to paint the walls of this FUCKIN’ house with your brains. Don’t you ever talk back to me” He threatened. Harry usually wasn’t this stern, but everything had gone to shit tonight. Hence, why he was on the brim of shooting everyone. “Get in line,” he said between his teeth.

“30, Arthur. And do you know what they were doing today while I was in my meeting?” Harry knew who Arthur was, he was also aware that Arthur’s job wasn’t to keep them safe. Harry knew most of his men. He could recognize them by their faces and their names. It was his duty to know everyone who was working under his roof.

“N-no sir”

“They were playing with their balls and cocks!” He yelled then chuckled sarcastically, outraged by their careless behavior. He needed another smoke, and so he lit one up and took a drag. “Now take a step forward if you were in charge of Y/N’s personal security” Much to Harry’s distaste no one stepped forward which only angered him more. He felt as if the blood running through his veins was bubbling. “No one is going to step up. Really?” He yelled and the estate shook. “Peter”.

The man didn’t bulge and so it seemed like Harry was going to take care of it. He grabbed him by the collar and practically dragged him in front of everyone, with his cigarette still tucked between his lips.

“Were or weren’t you in charge of Y/N’s safety?” He asked, walking down the lengthy line of men.

“Sir, the thing is that —”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION! YES, OR NO?”

“Yes,” Harry turned his back to him as he tried his best not to shoot him in the head. He reminded himself that he wasn’t the same man that had met Y/N that cold afternoon. He had changed. His serenity didn’t last long. Suddenly, he turned around and shot Peter in the leg without hesitation or any remorse.

Peter’s screams echoed through the entire house. The bullet had perforated through the skin right below the knee. Everyone in the house could hear his piercing voice. Although no one said anything, and no one did anything. They feared the man holding the gun and respected him enough not to cross him.

“Let this be a lesson for every single one of you. Y/N must always be protected. Someone must always be with her. Especially when I am not around. Her security comes first” He spat and quietly walked up to Peter, who remained on the floor, applying pressure on his wound. He tried his best not to shed a single tear, but it was extremely hard. “Peter might have gotten away with it, but the next time something like this happens. I won’t be this lenient” he threatened.

Harry kneeled before him and pressed the gun to this wound instantly causing Peter to yell in agonizing pain.

“When I ask you to do something — you do it without hesitation. You are lucky that nothing happened to Y/N. Otherwise, I would have tortured you until you begged me to end your life. Make sure this doesn’t ever happen again” He dangerously whispered to him. “Consider yourself lucky, I’m giving you another chance” He retracted with a smile. “You are dismissed” he mumbled, reaching out for the handkerchief he kept in his pocket. Harry cleaned the blood off his gun and finished his cigarette.

Harry was his most patient with her, but not when it came to her safety. Once, he had come close to losing her — incredibly close. From that day forward he promised himself that he would never allow it again. He promised himself that if it ever happened again, he would let her go and never threaten again with her safety. He would detach himself permanently from her life. Even if it pained him and even if it killed him to see her go.

“That was quick” He found her, tucked in bed, her hair up in a bun with her big, framed glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. She paused her show, wanting to devote her utter attention to him. “What happened downstairs?” she had heard his rough tone but hadn’t been able to make out his exact words.

“Why were you in the apartment?” he asked bluntly, without responding to her. He pulled off his blazer, setting it on the futon by the end of the bed, and then proceeded to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt.

“Because it’s our apartment and I can sleep over there if I want to?”

“What was the only condition in staying in the apartment, pup?” He stood straight, chest puffed out, arms crossed across his chest. His eyebrow raised high and pursed his lips.

“Achilles always had to be with me but Har—”

“And where is Achilles, Y/N?” Harry interrupted her, trying to prove his point.

“Getting trained” Achilles was the dog that Harry had gotten her after she had been released from the hospital. It was a Doberman and after lots of tears and arguing Y/N finally allowed him to leave for training.  “So? I had a meeting with a dangerous man. A man that with the snap of his fingers could have sent someone to hurt you” He tried his best not to involve her with his business. He never gave her details or names unless she pressured him into it.  “I could have easily found you murdered in the apartment. Or worst, you could have been kidnapped and tortured! When will you learn? All the security that I send with you is for your safety” the thought of losing her made him want to kill himself.

“I am sorry” she frowned, seeing the desperation and concern in his eyes. Y/N was very stubborn, and she knew that she wasn’t easy to handle. “It’s just sometimes, their presence is overbearing, and I feel like I can’t breathe with so many of them around” her head hung low, and she genuinely looked regretful — not like the other times.

Harry exhaled loudly and walked up to the side of her bed. He sat by the edge and was incredibly close to her. He got a whiff of her scent and instantly felt his muscles relax. Y/N reached out, noticing the exhaustion and the bags under his eyes. She inched closer and cupped his face with her delicate hands.

“I shot Peter in the leg” he admitted as she squished his cheeks together like she always does before kissing him.

“Harry!”

“He’ll live” he rolled his eyes, “His job is to protect you when I am not around, and he failed miserably today” Y/N pecked his lips multiple times before allowing him to kiss her deeply. “Don’t ever go” he whispered as their foreheads were pressed against each other.

“I wouldn’t. I love you”

“Loving you is easy. Deserving you is something else” he whispered back.

[theheraldsrest]

I have never asked on tumblr before, but I love all the writing, so I’ll give it my shot.

I was wondering if you could write how the companions (+ advisors if possible) reacts to The inquisitor losing their arm, either right after or when returning.

Would be a + if it’s a young inquisitor but that isn’t necessary(close to Varric) It’s kinda specific but you can do what you want, I’ll be happy either way☺️

“Companions react to Inquisitor losing their arm”

So I know most people headcannon that Solas took the Inquisitor’s arm. BUT there is also the headcanon that the LI or close friend helps cut it off, either by doing the actual chopping or helping to hold down the Inquisitor. So we gonna roll with that, except Solas who will still be stealing your arm. Here you go @i-do-love-to-kvile !

-Lord Lex

Cullen

Upon being given his position, he had made one promise that he meant to up keep: Protect the Inquisitor at all cost. Now, standing near you as you breathe heavily, the stump that once was your arm being cared for, he felt as if he had broken this promise. Later he’d look back on this moment and realize that there was nothing else he could’ve done but at the moment, he felt the weakest. He’d stay by your side, getting whatever you need and discussing with you ways to replace the arm. If anyone from the council tries to disturb you while you’re healing, they’re going to have a very angry Commander on their hands, telling them in a icy tone to “Leave. You. Be.”

Josephine

Her hands are shaking and, somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes this is the most blood she’s ever had on her hands in her life. But she doesn’t care. She’d try to staunch the blood, calling for a healer, for anyone, just someone to help you. Josey spent so long trying to research ways to help you and prepare you for the worst but this? It was an idea which was saved only as a last resort. Even when they do get a healer, she’s still shaking and only realizing now that she’s crying. They can’t lose you. Especially with everything going on. She’s trying to keep it together and take over your duties so that there is less off of you. Anything to help you.

Leliana

As your spy master, she is seething and demanding for her people to keep an eye on you while also trying to find where Solas is. She’d be the main reason Josephine is pulled away, trying her best to keep her composure and calm down her friend while a healer attends to you. If Divine, she receives this news and rushes to your side, demanding the talks be put on hold. They’re trying to destroy the Inquisition while the Inquisitor lays bleeding out? They can go to the far reaches of the Fade. When you do heal, she tries to be comforting but also tries to get information to understand what happened (and to hunt down who caused this).

Vivienne

One of two options: either she is furious or she is shaken to her core. Either way, it’s a first for everyone seeing this side of Madam Vivienne. As soon as the word healer reaches her ears, she’s there and already putting as many healing spells into you as possible without harming you. She’s unable to save your arm but at least she’s able to stop the blood. At least she’s useful. It’s the first time in forever since the passing of her love that she’s thought that way. But even then you were there to reassure her. Now, you lay there, weak and missing a limb. She stays by your side to comfort you, talking about anything and everything other than what had just occured.

Varric

Varric always has a joke, even for the worst of events. He knew when it was a good time to tell them and when it wasn’t. This is one of those times where he doesn’t know if it’ll help. He’s seen a lot of violence in his life but it never gets easier. He’s one of the people who’d be on your opposite side, trying his damndest to distract you while the others take off your arm. He’s trying to distract you from the pain as they’re trying to heal you. Instead of looking at the worst of it, he’s trying to turn your eyes to the bright side. Maybe he can see about getting a friend of his to make a prostetic for you. Eventually it just turns to him trying to soothe it and making one more promise, the same promise he made for Hawke. He’d never let anyone hurt you again, not on his watch.

Cole

He knows you’re in pain and has tried his hardest, but can’t make it go away. He wants to help so badly, to make it all better, but it’s become more difficult now that he’s starting to be alive again. He’s trying to help where he can, whether it be staunching the blood or trying to distract you from what was about to happen. Why would Solas…? He doesn’t understand and wants to but right now, all that matters is to make you right even if you are missing a piece. Wonders why they don’t want to keep the arm. Can’t they put it back on? Or is it broken, like the original Cole?

Solas

He is full of regret. Everything. What happened to his people, what happened to the orb, his plans, the events that have happened…but you? He doesn’t know. He knows the power within the orb would be too great for you to handle, eventually overcoming you. Had he expected to grow close? He didn’t mean to and yet he did. Now, here you were in front of him, in pain and asking him to come back, saying you’d either help him or look for a peaceful option. He wants to let go, he wants to forget you…but he can’t. He can’t let his friend die now, at least not to this. Maybe one day, he’ll find you. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll ask you to forgive him.

Cassandra

One of the ones to be given the option to cut off your arm. As the Divine, it may be suggested against letting her but it comes down to her decision. You are one of her only close friends, she’d do anything to make sure you were safe and to help you in any way. Cassandra may hesitate but, in the end, she’d do it knowing how much pain you were in. As soon as the job’s done, her weapon is dropped and she’s trying to help the healer. She’s so worried, begging the Maker to let you live. It’s a first time for everything, including seeing Seeker Cassandra shed some tears as she asks you to hold on. 

The Iron Bull

It’s one of those times that Bull has to separate himself from his duties. But knowing the person he’s about to chop a limb off of makes it a bit more difficult. He knows he has to do it or the stupid fade magic will kill you. He has someone near prepared to heal you and another (maybe two) to hold you down. And in one fell swoop, your arm is disconnected and he’s already checking to see if it’s stopped the progress. Probably be one of the only people who suggests against more magic being used to close your wounds and would even take it upon himself to try and patch you. Only after you’re fine does he finally let out his breath that he’d been holding.

Dorian

Like hell he was going to let you suffer. He’s ready, by your side, trying his own magic to separate the arm in the least painful way possible. As soon as it’s off, he’s using the last bit of his magic to heal you. Dorian was not about to lose someone so close to him, who had been with him through more than anyone else had. He owed you his life and he was going to make sure your help didn't go to waste. He’s trying so hard to soothe you, petting your head and trying to calm you down so that you can relax. He doesn’t want you to be in pain and it hurts to see you like this. Tires himself out putting all his magic into you, but it was worth it.

Sera

For the first time in a long time, Sera’s afraid. She’s worried. Worried for you. She’s not supposed to care about anyone but herself, yet you changed her mind. No, they can’t lose you. Not now, not after everything you’ve done for her. She still needs to pay you back. She’s trying to distract you, pointing out stupid things but immediately panics when your arm is chopped off. Your screaming causes her to scream, mainly saying “Stop panicking! It’s fine! You're fine!” Someone has to calm you both down. As soon as you're patched up and both of you are fine, she simply says “...At least you still got the right, yeah?”

Blackwall

Another one to be asked to remove it, but oh is he suffering. In no way whatsoever did he want to do anything that would hurt you nor did he want you to struggle. And one option was starting to overshadow the other. It takes him three tries to have the courage and on the third try does he slice completely through it, cringing at your screams, knowing he caused them. That was not a noise that he wanted to ever hear, having promised himself that he would never hurt the innocent again. He had to put that promise to the side to help save you. By the time you come to, he’s crying and trying to patch up your wound, asking you to forgive him.

Also, just finished this at midnight so please excuse any grammar mistakes or wonky lines. Have a good night/morning!

[spacesapphi]

"Moving Forwards and Spiraling Downwards Ch2"

No way, chapter 2! Apologies that this isn't the most exciting chapter, it's here to help set up some character dynamics for the most part. Chapter 3 on will have some more exciting premises :)

AO3 link here! :

Tumblr version under the cut!!

It was hard enough to not hate your job under normal circumstances. It was even harder in Shane’s case. Clocking in as the custodian in the cushy office building he worked in, doing all the gross work no one wanted to do, only for no thanks or acknowledgement drained him. Not to mention the pay, oh how he hated the pay. It was criminally low already for how expensive living in Zuzu City was, and he was using nearly half of his paycheck on babysitting for Jas. There was a daycare program for workers in the building, but it was reserved for the people whose jobs were “more important” than his, as his supervisor put it. It wasn’t fun, or desirable by any means, but he trudged through for Jas’ sake. He had prioritized her wellbeing over all else, and if doing a thankless job meant his goddaughter had what she needed, so be it. 

The sound of dress shoes clomping through the lobby he had just so thoroughly mopped echoed out. He could recognize exactly who it was just based on the sound alone; his supervisor. This was just going to be soooo much fun.

“Yoder, I want you in my office. Now.” His voice was gruff and unfeeling, sending a cool shiver down Shane’s spine. He closed his eyes tight, taking a deep breath, preparing his ‘customer service voice’ before he turned to face him. 

“Of course, I’ll be right there, Ben,”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll be right there, sir,” Shane restated, putting an annoyed emphasis on the last word. Ben was obnoxious about people calling him by his name, and Shane especially got in trouble with him over it.

“Now wasn’t that easy?” Ben’s voice dripped with sarcasm, an almost spiteful grin on his face, “Leave your supplies, follow me.”

The office was cold and bleak. It reeked of sanitizer, and was just so blindingly bland. Everything Ben owned was in that depressing, stereotypical office color palette, not an item out of place. He kept it looking like it was straight out of a magazine, like he was expecting praise for keeping his pens ever so neatly arranged in his drawer or something. Shane sat down in the chair across from him, feeling a sense of unease. It never meant anything good if Ben called you into his office, and based on his tone of voice, he was in trouble.

“Do you know why I called you in here today?”

“Not really, no.” Shane mumbled. He folded his hands together, nervously fidgeting his fingers. Ben gave an exasperated sigh, throwing down a small packet on Shane’s side of the desk. He couldn’t exactly read the finer print from here, but one word stuck out to him. 

“Terminated?” he felt his stomach tie into a knot. His supervisor looked completely unphased, as if he didn’t care in the slightest about how Shane was reacting.

“Yes, that is what it says, isn’t it?” his tone was almost mocking, “Effective immediately, I might add. I want you returning your uniform and leaving within the hour.”

“For what?!” Shane started sounding frantic, clutching the papers in his hands, “I-I need this job, why are you-”

“Eight missed shifts this month alone, Yoder. Eight.” Ben grumbled, “That’s twice a week, and you expect us to be okay with that?”

Shane sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tight. Of course it was that. Jas’ babysitter had been getting increasingly unreliable, calling him at the last minute many times to let him know she wasn’t coming. He had no choice but to just stay home, not that he didn’t mind the day off. He knew this was going to cause trouble at some point though, and had hoped that he would simply get a warning. But fired? He didn’t expect this in the slightest. 

“Look,” Ben rolled his eyes, motioning a hand in the air, “I know you’ve been having a hard time with your daughter… niece… whatever she is. But this is unacceptable. Eight shifts, I can’t let it slide!”

“Please, just give me one more chance…”

“I’ve given you more chances than you deserve.” the supervisor sneered, nose scrunching up in contempt, “Maybe this will be a sign to start making smarter choices, hmm? You kids these days, making stupid decisions, getting yourself into these situations you can’t handle, then making it my problem.”

“You know what, Ben?” Shane rose from his chair, holding back the urge to lunge over the table at the sniveling man and knock him out. He ripped off his nametag, throwing it down to the table with a loud crack, “Go fuck yourself.”

Ben’s offended screeches echoed down the hall as Shane stormed out of the office, making his way to his locker in the ‘employees only’ room. He practically ripped the uniform off, imagining all the things he wished he could say to his now ex-boss. He had to hold his tongue though. It was already looking like he wouldn’t exactly be getting a glowing review for his resume, and he didn’t want to ruin his chances further. 

And oh, did he have words for Jas’ babysitter. Fran had started out well enough in the beginning. Jas certainly seemed happy and well taken care of when he got home in the evenings. But as of late, she’d been getting sloppier. Showing up late, not showing up at all, it had been getting more and more frequent and he was growing very frustrated. He was already imagining the earful he was going to give her when he got back home. Getting dressed back into a simple sweatshirt and jeans, he grabbed his things and stormed out of the building for the last time.

Stepping into the cramped little apartment he and Jas called home, he could feel his stress level jump to 11. The place was a mess, an absolute horrendous mess. Fran lounged on the couch texting while Jas sat on the floor, watching some bright and noisy cartoon on the dingy little tv he had on the wall. The toddler turned to look at him, squealing and making grabby motions in his direction. Being the softie he was, Shane couldn’t stay mad after seeing that. His grumpy expression softened into a smile as he scooped her up into his arms, listening to her squeal excitedly.

“Dada!” she squeaked, repeating the phrase over and over as she reached up towards his face. Shane’s smile fell just a bit. He still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that term. 

 Jas had been quickly learning new words, short ones that were easy enough for a one year old. Shane was proud of her, there was no doubt, but being called dad? He wasn’t sure about it. He was raising her, sure, but it just didn’t feel right. Would it ever? He shook the thought from his mind, greeting her back, “How’s the day been, chickadee?” Jas babbled in return, waving her arms in the air with such gusto, as if she was telling him a grand story about her adventures today.

“Oh really! Then what happened?” Shane replied jokingly, stifling back a laugh as she babbled back, as if they were having a real conversation. Her little squeals were full of such an infectious joy that Shane almost forgot what he was upset about. 

“Hey, you got another package today,.” Fran mumbled, not even looking up from her phone.

Right. That.

“Fran, we need to talk.” His voice was stern and laced with a quiet anger. Fran raised a brow, still not looking up from her phone.

 “I can’t even start to tell you how mad I am at you right now,” Shane grumbled, “You calling out and coming over late? Guess what? It got me fired!”

The young woman finally looked up from her screen, a mildly surprised look on her face, “Oh shit, man, I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry? Oh good, that means it’s all better now! I’ll let my boss know you’re sorry and he’ll give me my job right back!” he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Get out of my house.”

“Can you pay me for the day first?” Fran held out her hand, not even looking him in the eye. She seemingly couldn’t care less about the costs of her actions. 

Shane rolled his eyes, pulling a small wad of cash from his pocket and placing it in her hand. Fran raised a brow, “I don’t think this enough.”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you anything after this… GO…” Shane grumbled pointed to the door, watching as Fran angrily rose from the couch, giving him a scowl. 

“Fuck you, dude.” she growled, turning to the door and slamming it behind her with all her strength. The noise made Jas jump, her lip quivering just a bit. Shane immediately turned back to look at her with a sorry expression. 

“Sorry, Jassy…” he apologized, “Let’s go get some lunch, okay?”

That seemed to get the girl excited, her eyes lighting up at the mention of it. Shane couldn’t deny he was just as excited, just now realizing he hadn’t eaten yet today. He threw in a quick microwave meal for himself, getting Jas a small plate of something much healthier, little pieces of veggies, fruit and a teeny sandwich. Even if he wasn’t eating the best, he wanted to make sure she was. She needed to, and he knew Amelia would’ve risen from the dead just to kill him if he let Jas eat the way he did. She always complained when he and Jason would have stuff like this in college, lecturing the two of them about preservatives and health risks. The two never paid it much mind, but she never forgot to pull out the lecture each and every time, just in case they would have a change of heart.

 Maybe she was right about how bad they were, though. The microwave meal was mush in his mouth, the texture absolutely disgusting. Joja brand foods were the most cost effective for sure, but sweet Yoba were they junk. Why did he keep buying them? He forced himself to finish the meal, ruminating over today's events in his mind.

Finding a new job and care for Jas was going to prove to be a problem. It wasn’t easy the first time around, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be any easier now. The money he had initially set aside to pay for equipment, tryouts and the like to get on an official gridball team was slowly depleting, and he knew it wouldn’t last too much longer. Maybe a month was all it had left at this point. It pained him with every dollar he took from that fund. He knew the dream of being a Tunneler was dead, but every cent gone from it was just another nail in the coffin, another painful reminder that his greatest passion in life was unobtainable. The stars were finally just within his reach, his fingertips inches away from their touch, but now they couldn’t be further away. With that goal gone, he didn’t know what to do with his life anymore. Gridball was everything, aiming to be a Tunneler was everything. He was good at it too, better than good. He was a damn letterman, for Yoba’s sake! But one injury, one hit to the knee and it was gone. 

Maybe he could fall back on his major, though film arts was more of a hobby than anything. He, Jay, and Amelia had made tons of short films together in college, and he was a pretty good cameraman if he did say so himself. But where was he going to find a job like that in Zuzu city of all places? The film industry was hell to break into, and even worse to work in. It could never work, especially with Jas to care for. A sinking feeling that he may be resigned to a life of retail and service jobs made him grimace. He’d done plenty of them through college to know he’d rather die than work in that environment again.

Though… The thought of working on a ranch was enticing. Ever since he was little, Aunt Marnie talked at length about how the ranch had been in their family for generations, and he was next in line to take it over if he so wished. He had always loved the animals they raised, especially the chickens. There was just something about them that was so calming to him. Maybe Jas would love them too. The valley was also such a wonderful place to raise a kid, plenty of fresh air and kind people. The city had its perks, sure, but he recognized its glaring problems. He could always go home, ask Marnie if he could start working with her to prepare for his turn to run it. She was getting older, and he knew she needed to step down from running it someday in the future. And now that he wasn’t pursuing gridball, it seemed like a solid career choice. 

He twisted around the fork that sat in his hand, biting at the side of his cheek as he thought about it. Looking at Jas, he could just imagine life for her there. It could be so good for her, much better than this cramped little one room apartment. Honestly, anything would be, but especially this. Making a decision, he put down his dish and pulled his phone from his pocket. The dialtone dragged on for a moment, ending as a cheery voice answered. 

“Schatz? Is that you?”

“Hey, aendi…” Shane smiled softly, “I’m not interrupting anything, right?”

Marnie scoffed lightly, “Oh don’t worry about that, you know I’ll always make time for you… What’s going on? You’re usually working this hour.”

Shane grimaced, “Well… I had a question, but to answer yours… I-I got fired.”

“Fired?! Fired for what?”

“I kept having to miss days, Jas’ babysitter kept flakin’ on me.” he turned his gaze back to the toddler, who was now finished with what was on her plate and playing with her utensils. He lifted her from out of her highchair, pacing around the apartment as he talked, “I’ll figure it out, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh I’m so sorry…” Marnie’s voice sounded empathetic, “How is Jas though, I haven’t seen her in so long!”

“Well, she’s started talking!”

Shane winced as Marnie let out a loud, excited noise that made his phone’s speaker cut out for a moment, “Really?! Oh that’s amazing! What does she know so far?”

“Basic stuff, mostly: Yes, no, bye, and… she’s been saying ‘dada’ a lot” Shane’s voice got a bit more solemn at the end. Marnie noticed immediately, “You don’t sound excited about that, dear.”

“I know I should, it’s a milestone. But it just doesn’t feel right, y’know?” Shane sighed, looking at the toddler in his arms, “Did I ever do anything like that when I was a kid? Like… did I call you mom?”

“No, not really.” Marnie mused, reminiscing, “You were old enough to know I was your aunt when I took you in, you never really tried to call me that.”

“Would you have let me?”

Marnie was quiet for a moment, pursing her lips as she mulled over her answer, “I think.. That’s where our situations diverge. You’re not related to your friends, that’s a key difference… Do you not want her to call you that?”

“No…. yes?” Shane groaned in a frustrated tone, “I don’t know. It just feels wrong right now. Jason is her dad, not me. He should be the one hearing her first words and being called ‘dad’. It feels like I’m stealing that from him.”

“You didn’t steal anything from anyone, but… I get it. I do.” Marnie tsked, “Give it some time, love. Think about it.”

He didn’t want to think about it, though. Everytime he thought he was fine, that he was healing, something like this happened that dragged him right back down again. It had only been 4 months now, and he knew that wasn’t nearly enough time to grieve and get himself back together, but he just wanted to be sure about something. He hated how much he was relying on his aunt, how much he was calling her to ask what to do, how to feel. She didn’t mind it one bit, but he felt he was being a burden. She was busy, she had her own life and things to attend to. He wished he could be as strong as she was when she was his age. 

“Thanks…” he mumbled, “I don’t want to keep you though, you have work, don’t you?”

There was a moment of silence on the phone, before he heard a long sigh, “No, actually… We’re closed on Mondays now. Tuesdays too.”

Shane furrowed his brow in concern. That wasn’t right, not at all. He remembered how incredibly busy the ranch was when he was little. Aunt Marnie would be directing farm hands to do all sorts of tasks, people came in droves to get fresh products from such a quaint little shop. City people often saw shops like these as novelties, like roadside attractions. Anytime someone passed through they were bound to stop in, get something so they could brag about going to a small traditional business. What had happened?

“That corporation… it got the permits to build in the valley. Jojacorp, whatever they call it. It’s cheaper to go there, and I just can’t compete with the pricing, you know?” Marnie groaned, holding her head in her hands, “It’s going to get worse if they build one in town. It’s already bad, I had to let the farm hands go. It’s just me now.”

“Holy shit…” Shane breathed out, leaning back on the couch as he tried to process it, “Aendi, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll make it work! Our family always does,” Marnie chirped, always finding the silver lining in things, “It’s hard now, but who knows, maybe something good comes out of this.”’

Marnie made a little noise, scoffing at herself, “Look at me rambling! I’m so sorry schatz,  you said you had a question, right?”

Shane felt himself tense up. How was he supposed to ask to come home now? He knew Marnie wouldn’t say no. She’d insist on him moving back and working with her, even after all the struggles she had opened up about. There was no way either of them could sustain themselves like that. He felt so incredibly crushed, another opportunity to get into a better situation squashed by something out of his control. Hopefully Marnie was right and something good would come out of this, because right now he felt as hopeless as ever.

He gave a weak laugh, trying his hardest not to cry, “I just, uh… I just wanted to know how things were back home...”

Marnie made an amused sound, smiling softly, “It’s been good, all things considered…. Oh, you won’t believe what happened in the coops today!”

He listened to his aunt ramble on about all the antics the animals had been getting up to at home, then all the gossip and goings-on about town. It was always amusing what people found to be scandalous and newsworthy back in town. So little happened that something as silly as someone tripping and falling in townsquare could hold the gossip steady for days. It beat the depressing headlines that came from the city any day, though. Shane would much rather prefer the corniness of Pelican Towns ‘dilemmas’ to hearing about the third tragedy happening just this week. 

The talk continued for some time, Marnie having so many stories to share. Many of them were silly, inconsequential tales, but it was just what Shane needed in the moment. Marnie did too, honestly. It broke her heart that he lived so far away, that she couldn’t be there to help him whenever he needed it. And his pride was too strong to come back home, she knew it well. It was commendable to want to try and do this on his own, but she did wish he was more receptive to getting help. He’d been like that since he was a child, with everything he did. He was such a stubborn and independent little thing, and to a fault. She just hoped it wouldn’t get in the way of doing what was best for him and Jas now. 

“I think I need to go now, schatz, but I’m glad you called.. Please, if you need anything, let me know. We’re all rooting for you back home,” Marnie encouraged. 

“I appreciate it, I really do…” Shane muttered back, looking down to the now sleeping toddler in his arms. His heart still hurt, unbearably so, but knowing he wasn’t alone for a minute of it was comforting. That much he couldn’t deny.

 Even if the call didn’t go the way he expected, or wanted, he found himself with just the smallest bit of confidence. This was going to take time to process, and a lot of work, but he could do it. Just like Marnie said, their family always made things work out in the end, and eventually he would. He just had to look for the silver lining in the storm, even if it took forever.

[madame-fear]

What is with this HOTD fandom?! Never have I ever been part of a fandom that attacks each other the way this one does. I have never seen “fans” as malicious, cruel, and relentless as the ones in the HOTD fandom! It’s insane. Vicious people are running content creators into the ground or off Tumblr or ao3 completely simply because they don’t like a certain ship, or trope, or tag, or dynamic, or a certain character etc etc. Its like the thought process is “I don’t like x, y, or z so instead of simply ignoring that content and not reading it, I’m going to make this everyone’s problem and find the people that make this content and harass them as much as possible. I’m also going to find as many ppl to help me gang up on this person and destroy them! You like something I don’t so that makes you bad. You don’t think the way I do so you need to be dealt with!” Like come on y’all, so you don’t like smut, or fluff, or lucemond, or rhaenicent, or character x reader, or modern fics, or dead dove, or enemies to lovers, or alpha/omega, or bottom/top, or you hate Lucerys, or Aemond, or rhaenyra, or daemon, or Jace, or the Blacks, or the Greens or whatever there may be, like no one cares! No one cares you don’t like something in fandom! What happened to “ship and let ship?” If you don’t like something, that’s fine, that’s great, I hope you are able to find all content you do like, but you don’t have a free pass to trash other people! Just ignore it, don’t read that story, block that specific creator if you want, just move on and find the stuff you do like. Why do these ppl feel the need to turn into a vicious pack of hyenas, relentlessly attacking content creators, literally running them off with death threats and doxxing etc etc like damn y’all! You just experienced this a few days ago with an “anon” who turned out to be a username I recognized and have seen around for a long time. And here they are acting the way they did. Like what?!

HOTD isn’t real! It’s fiction! It can be whatever people want it to be, people can use whatever trope they want, completely random ships between completely nonsensical characters can exist, a story can be set in the Amazon or freaking space, a story can be the sweetest, fluffiest story to ever exist or it can be the strangest, darkest, most messed up thing you’ve ever read and that’s fine! It’s fine! Surround yourself with what you do like and just let other people live, why is that so hard?! So sorry for my rant, I had to get that out

FUCKING PREEEACH ANON, SAY IT LOUDER! Please please please rant as much as you wish, darling. 🗣🗣🗣

No you literally said EVERYTHING there was to be said about this fandom. I joined the fandom a day or two after the series ended, on October 2022 and BELIEVE me when I tell you that the fandom has gone completely deranged by now. I don’t like blaming anyone in particular, but I kind of have the feeling these big accounts that are always in the centre of some drama are the cause of the toxicity lingering in the fandom :/

I mean, I for example don’t like certain ships like Lucemond. It makes me feel so uncomfortable and off, and you know what I did? I filtered the tag, blocked some people on those tags, and went on with my life. I live and let live. I never even harassed someone or commented on their posts against their likings. This one big account that also started a huge ass drama recently was telling everyone to stop writing for bimboism because its anti-feminist or something — LIKE EXCUSE ME???? You don’t like something and you are making it EVERYBODY ELSES problem? Naur. And its worse when they send a troop of minions to attack and stupidly doxx... damn. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you already saw on other occasions the user harassing me previously... 🙄

I don’t like the concept/trope bimboism either and I never even considered on writing about it. But does that give me the right to tell everyone to stop writing for it because I simply dislike it? No, not at all! Because its also the right of other people to read and write for whatever they enjoy the most. Yes, she has her right to have her own opinion on her blog — but this shouldn’t apply only to a certain group of people! As far as I’m concerned, there’s something called freedom of speech; meaning we can all say and like whatever the fuck we want, unless you want to establish a mediocre social media dictatorship.

I also love how their friends stick up to them while they pretend to be on a hiatus to victimise themselves further. This one friend of them told a mutual "you will stand down" and "you will not win this" like the CLOWNING in here is real. Babygirl you are arguing against strangers online for a fucking fanfic trope, we aren’t in the middle of some medieval battlefield, wdym??? 😭😭

And also they blamed this same mutual telling her that she’s been harassing this one account for over a year (the big account mentioned previously that she had never seen my mutual before or something like that, and they never even talked before this???) even if the drama is recent, and said that... The drama was triggering the miscarriage this account had like a year ago. I swear to God this is too much to handle and it too sad. Especially to bring such tragic personal event like a miscarriage to put the weight on somebody else for an online argument about fictional tropes.

You literally said everything about this. I can’t believe we have to argue about this. And then the friend of a mutual said that its the right of the big account to have her own opinion but they aren’t respecting the opinions of others? Like damn just block people and filter tags, man. I don’t know what to tell you, because why would the world stop merely because you don’t like something and then everyone is like "OOO ESOKEEE🥺" to immediatly boost their ego by hating on other people going against what they say.

yk what, nonnie? You are absolutely fucking right. HOTD is fictional and we can do whatever the hell we want. And we shouldn’t be scared of speaking up. I’m tempted to publish my drafted post about this because I’m sick and tired of having to walk on knife edge just to not be harrassed. Thank you for the rant!

[suzie-guru]

Heey Suzie, im a big fan of your writing! Including “Between the Shadow and the Soul” , which is easily my favorite fanfic lately, and I wanted to ask you if you are still going to continue it because I, and many other people, love it very dearly, and it would be a shame for a master piece to go unfinished. Please think about continuing it for you fans. Love you 🥰

This is an incredibly old ask and I’m relatively sure you’re into other fandoms and things now. First, thank you for the love and the kind words. However, I wanted to answer this because of something specific in this message:  “Please think about continuing it for you fans.”

I’ve been thinking about some things that I need to get off my chest here, the reason why I’ve been away from Tumblr and, honestly, why I will continue to be pretty minimal in my activity on the site. 

First and foremost, there’s something I should state - almost everyone in my family, including myself, is in a service career. Nurses, teaching, the clergy…those professions are very normal to go into in our family. And it’s also very much the norm in our family to put others before ourselves, to help whenever we can. I’m not saying this to brag, it’s a fact. And it’s also a fact that we are so ingrained to perform services for others above anything else that we often neglect our own personal needs and health and self care. 

One of my biggest struggles is being a people pleaser and needing validation from others. Unfortunately both of these traits have led me down some very detrimental paths, and I turned to very unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with it. I’ve grown enough and have learned enough to understand that self care is just as important as service, that setting boundaries isn’t selfish, and that one can be compassionate without letting themselves be consumed in the process. 

How does this relate to this ask, to me not being on Tumblr? 

Tumblr was where I got almost all of my social interactions, the one place I could cut loose with other people. I had genuine friendships on here, very close relationships. The Strange Magic Fandom experience was a heady, loving and beautiful one, and it was a huge part of my life, as were the people I met through it. It was my everything, even through the longest, darkest depressive period I’ve ever had. 

Time went on, as it does, and people came in and out of the fandom, but I had my close friends and all was good. Until I noticed after a few weeks that they weren’t interacting with my personal posts like they used to. They weren’t as constant as they had been. 

I felt left behind, rejected, overlooked. I was asking myself, what I had done? Did I fail them in some way? What way? Was it the fact I wasn’t creating content? Did they finally realize I wasn’t worth their time? 

I was deep in an anxiety spiral, and my self loathing was in full force. Each time I went on Tumblr and saw these people interacting and posting with others but not me, it hissed at me that was reminded how I was no longer important, how I would always be left behind unless I was putting others first, “you can only use the depression period as an excuse for so long…” 

For my mental and emotional health, I stepped away from Tumblr. I spent the next few months reading and working out and drawing and hiking and working and living my life. Those months turned into years. And I didn’t feel the need to come back, dive in as deeply as I had. The hurt had caused the departure, but now I recognized something else. 

I was making Tumblr my haven of validation. My whole self worth was tied to it. And when I didn’t create fanfics or update them, I thought I was failing my friends, exposing myself as a subpar artist, a bad person. 

When I wasn’t. And I’m not. 

My stories are deeply personal, and I pour myself into them. And that takes time. And I have a life to lead along with all that.

The saying “write for yourself” is an odd one - I believe it and I don’t. Creators need feedback, interactions with what they create. It helps their process and inspires them. When I read a book or go see a movie, I’m inspired by it. Creativity fuels creativity. 

Fanfiction has a blessing and the bane of being able to directly communicate with the author. The comments of those who read my fanfics are deeply deeply deeply treasured by me. I can’t even begin to say how much they mean to me. 

My stories are personal but I share them because I want to. People see themselves echoed in stories, and that’s why they matter. I want to share my stories because I want to give others the same experiences I’ve had reading stories. 

So I do write for people in that I share my stories. But I also write for myself. I write because the words won’t leave me, because the scenes keep playing in my head, because I want to chase after all the questions. I write to get the damn thing out of my head and onto the page so I finally have space in my skull. I write to satisfy my soul, hungry hungry hungry thing that it is. 

But I have learned a hard lesson, and I know myself better now then I did when I started posting fanfiction. And while I’m absolutely certain it was not intended in such a way, “continuing it for you fans” is something I will not set store in because I’ve been down that path. I don’t like what it did to me, what I did to myself.

I plan to continue my stories. But I will no longer apologize for taking my time with them because it is just that: mine. 

[jewishrizahawkeye]

i’ve worked myself up so i’m going to fucking yell about this asshole client at work because i’m so pissed off the melatonin isn’t working anymore

this guy is a fucking idiot who doesn’t understand the concept of a pet having a new issue and needing a new exam to evaluate the pet. he thinks having had one exam within the year means that the pet never needs to be examined by the doctor again even if a new issue arrives he also thinks he’s a brilliant man and has to explain to dumb woman like me what a human period is! yes you read that right:

HE TRIED TO EXPLAIN TO ME WGAT A PERIOD IS WHEN I HAVE GAD MORE EXPERIENCE WITH THEM THEN HE EVER HAS

like this man is a piece of shit asshole that fucking tells at me for asking questions the doctor wants to know or point blank telling him the doctor will want an exam and i will not dignify him enough to even ask the doctor “hey, the client wants to know if he can have a conversation with both vets to discuss what could possibly be wrong with his pets skin. even though he has not had his pet seen for this condition.” because i know the doctor ir techs will look at me surprised and start laughing because there’s no way im hell they’re going for that. but he doesn’t like that i wont ask. and i know the easy solution is to just ask and say “hey, this is still no right? okay cool the client has a dumb ass question and wanted me to check” but he has yelled at me, made fun of me for stuttering cause i’ve been coughing for three-four months and my mouth is constantly dry, and he EXPLAINED TO ME WHAT A HUMAN PERIOD WAS so i do not want to place him on hold because i know the answer.

and because of that today he said i was difficult because i refused to ask the doctor something when i knew he’d want an exam and he said that i acted like i knew everything (had to hold back audibly laughing over the phone and laughed with my manger later about that) and that i was so difficult and he was an old school man. when i tried to explain he’d need an examine he tried to cut me off with “SHES ALREADY GAD AN EXAM” and i had to clarify an exam for a new issue.

anyway this man is the fucking worst and i hate him and i audibly sigh anytime his name pops up on caller id and he keeps threatening to go to a different clinic and i am asking every tumblr user to help manifest this guy goes somewhere else or he gets fired by the doctor because i am very close to snapping and i just wish he’d find a new vet.

[ncfan-1]

Tumblr just ate the post I was trying to write, so I'm gonna give a shorter, admittedly more jumbled version:

I called a lot of what happened in Episode 7:

I never seriously thought that Mae killed anyone. The Evil Child Killed Everyone narrative was ludicrous on its face, and given the way things wound up shaking out, it seems like framing her for the deaths was the worst thing the four Jedi did that night. I sometimes questioned whether she even started the fire, but I figured that if she did, it was probably at an adult’s instigation. And I never thought she intended for it to get so out of hand. Mae is bossy and clingy towards Osha, sure, and she acts out in ways that are, umm, not great, but it was such an extreme escalation of her behavior that it seemed like someone was putting words in her mouth, actions-wise. In the end, she was just a pawn in someone else’s game. It’s… rough. My heart has hurt for her since Day 1, since she’s obviously in a lot of pain, but it aches for her now.

Sol is a wolf in sheep’s clothing who didn’t realize he was a wolf until it was too late, and I love him for that; it’s so fascinating.

I posited that Sol might have killed Mother Aniseya, and that Mae might well have seen him do it. In a moment of tragic impulse, but still… I thought that Mae seemed afraid of Sol in a way that she didn’t seem afraid of Indara or Torbin. There’s the way she responds to him during their confrontation in Episode 2, the way she freezes and throws a dagger at his feet to keep him from coming closer. There’s also the way she starts to subtly freak out in Episode 6 when she’s strapped down to the table and Sol puts his hand near her head. Small wonder; she watched him impale her mother on a lightsaber. I wonder, does he see Aniseya in her eyes every time he looks at her? Mae is Sol’s reckoning, the blood he can’t wash off of his hands no matter how hard he tries. She is his guilt, his failure, his shame.

Sol is wracked with guilt for a reason. Sol keeps putting off telling Osha the truth for a reason. His connection with her seems to have been a platonic form of love at first sight, but it also seems to have been tainted with selfishness from the start. He loves her desperately, he doesn’t want to lose her love, but their relationship is built on the foundation of a lie that has caused Osha so much pain. There are so many layers to the clusterfuck that is that lie, and it makes perfect sense why Sol keeps running interference when Osha tries to confront Mae for what she “did.” He isn’t just trying to keep Osha from going down a self-destructive path; he’s trying to shield Mae from retribution that he knows she does not deserve.

He’s trying to protect Mae now because he utterly failed to protect her as a child. He didn’t just fail to save her; he actively chose not to save her. And I think that has eaten him alive every day for sixteen years. There has never been a day when Mae has not haunted him. I honestly think that is why Indara attacked him on the ship and visibly wanted to beat the living daylights out of him. As far as they’re all concerned, Mae’s blood is on their hands, but as far as Indara is concerned, Sol as good as killed her himself.

Was Osha drummed out of the Order because she couldn’t let go of her anger and resentment towards Mae like I think she was? Indara sells Sol on the lie by telling him that after everything else he’s done, he can’t take Osha’s dream away from her, too. But was it the lie he told her that wound up doing that, in the end? Did he wind up taking Osha’s dream away from her, regardless?

I also posited that Mae and Sol’s dynamic could potentially wind up being more toxic than Osha and Qimir’s, and hoo boy, was I right. I want living atonement for Sol, both because we don’t see that a whole lot in mainstream Star Wars, and because I just… I just do. I like him, okay. But while I can 100% see him latching onto Mae super-hard out of guilt, out of remorse, out of this need to love others in a way that the Jedi do not seem able to provide him, and I can also see Mae accepting it just because she is so totally alone, even her own sister holds her in utter contempt, the idea of being loved is likely something she would latch onto utterly desperately, I just can’t see it being healthy. They’re stuck together by blood. He scares her, and she is the living manifestation of his guilt. Give me the trauma-bonded, utterly radioactive toxic duo. Maybe it could eventually become something more positive, because if they end up living in exile the way I think they might, they could learn how to rebuild from nothing together. I want to see Sol learn how to love others in a healthier way. I want to see Mae relearn how to love and be loved.

(Yes, I am utterly obsessed with the potential Mae-Sol dynamic, how could you tell?)

Aniseya getting to be a spooky witch was fun. Aniseya and Koril continue to be drop-dead gorgeous.

Episode Eight probably starts with Osha hurling the cortosis helmet to the ground in betrayed grief and rage. Meanwhile, Mae and Sol are both crying their eyes out on the ship, possibly on each other's shoulders. I do want living atonement for Sol, but I'll admit, I'm not really sure he's going to get it. I'll probably cry if he dies.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I am so tired! And I am so tired of being tired!

This year I missed the daffodils. And the peach blossoms. I walked by them several times a day, but I was always in such a rush, so distracted, and usually in so much pain I never even noticed. I only saw the aftermath, like “Oh, damn! Not a one still blooming!”

This is NOT like me. Looking up at the tree by the house and going “OMG! It’s full of leaves!” because I never noticed it sprouting is insane. Noticing things has always been one of my defining traits. It’s kept me alive. When things are bleak being able to turn despair into a momentary “OH! Cool bug!!” has been the linchpin of my survival. I am supposed to keep a corner of my brain free.

But there is too much now, and every day there are several more somethings. I’m like a weight lifter reaching the limit of what they can hoist, only I don’t get to decide when I stop. Someone else is adding the weights. Thank goodness I’m agnostic, ‘cause otherwise I’d imagine a sadistic deity chuckling as they throw another 10lbs on me.

I want a boring, do nothing, day. It sounds so lovely, flopped somewhere listening to music and day dreaming, or reading, or watching (properly eyes on the screen watching) a movie, or even just taking a nap….

But if I ever had a day without something I urgently needed to do I’d just fill the time trying to desperately catch up on the things I’ve been putting off.

I haven’t responded to anyone here in over a month, even when I REALLY wanted to. Hell, if I don’t do some making drafts for Tumblr my queue of photos runs out by the weekend and my sculpting photos run out tomorrow!

But I HAVE to paint my Easter gift for Mom. Somehow. I need hours to paint, hours with nothing else, focused. The gift will be crappy, because everything I do lately is crappy (multiple reasons), but I want it to be the best crappy I can do. Mostly, though, I just need to be able to finish it!

Time. Exhaustion. Pain. I may be broke, but I think these are dooming me even more. Not affording crucial things causes plenty of suffering, but I could endure a hell of a lot more if I could only just think!

I miss thinking…..

(Written in the “left over” time when I had to cut my call to Mom short. Disappointment should turn to “ Woo hoo! 15 minutes free time!”, but look at me wasting every valuable moment. Funny isn’t it? Teachers used to love how I “used time wisely”, and here adult me makes a Tumblr post with it!)

[jaybutnotthebird]

SOMEONE wrote a fanfiction that starts with Rocky’s death and now I can’t shake the image of him lying inmovile in a pool of blood

this morning I cried, legit teared up while wondering my apartment thinking of this nonexistant cat who isn’t even dead in canon

I keep thinking of Freckle and Ivy reacting to it, just like my own sona, who, mind you, doesen’t exist in that fanfiction, but still NOW I have a headcanon for how they would go about the burial and everything

so, um, thanks Aveen (they don’t have a tumblr but here’s the link)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47728090/chapters/120311308

oh and here’s my own sona’s reaction ‘cause god dammit I NEED TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM!!

(sorry if it seems a little too dramatic or cheesy I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR)

As if Mitzy didn't have too many things on her mind, now she was even shorter on staff. That was without taking the grief into consideration. She sat at Atlas', now her chair in the study, with her late husband's portrait hanging behind her, in silence. She was supposed to make numbers but at the moment she couldn't push herself to. She needed a drink, or a few first.

There was a knock on the door

"well?" she asked, and the door opened, revealing the familiar image of a fluffy black cat with orange patches. The poor thing looked even more dishelved than her

"Jasper, honey. What can I do for you?"

"I just..." Jasper's voice sounded uncaracteristically tired, alienating him even more from his usual shelf

"I just wanted to take care of Rocky's funeral, and leting you know mam. I will be paying for it and everything"

She pinched her brow and sighed

"yes, thank you dear"

"um, the whole thing will probably happen very fast... would you like to come to the burial?"

"no, well, I don't think so. Do tell me where it is and I'll bring him flowers, will you, dear?"

"yes, Miss M. Thank you"

before he closed the door behind him, he asked again

"do you know where I can find Freckle?"

"mh? Oh, he was wondering arround like a lost soul"

"right, thank you"

Jasper didn't need to search too far. He came downstairs and found Freckle moping the spot where Rocky had died. He came up to him

"Freckle?"

"please, don't-"

"sorry, Calvin. Um... may I speak to you for a moment?"

Calving looked up at him. It was Rocky's friend, that is, his best friend. Allways listening to his nonesense, laughting his jokes, telling him to be carefull.

Being allways by his side, he had seemed bigger, stronger, taller... now the black cat seemed small, his fur all messed, his shirt crumpled and slightly opened, sleeves rolled up... and a couple smudges of blood still on it. The tom's green eyes where still wet and tired and he was fidgeting with his signature cap.

His whole demeanor and body languaje was defleated, oposit to his usual boustering energy

"I was thinking about the burial... If you don't mind, I will take care of it. Make it sound like an accident and all"

Calvin hadn't even thought of it. He thought they would just get rid of the body and let his aunt think Rocky had wandered off after losing another job.

"I would pay for it. I have enough saved... just... would you mind helping me take him upstairs or do you prefer I ask someone else?"

Calvin didn't think for a moment

"I'll do it"

Jasper had been at the speakeasy when it happened. He couldn't believe it. One moment he was sitting at his favourite spot, confy, reading with a glass of something sweet and Rocky was wandering arround the speakeasy cheerful as allways... the next there where a couple loud noises and chaos errupted. By the time he looked up from behind the booth and focused his sight on the figure lying on the floor it was already over.

You do not know vertigo until someone you love is in danger. The sensation of a sudden void in your stomach. The panic, as no matter how much you call out and press on the wound and cry for help and say 'no' there's nothing you can do.

He had tried to reanimate Rocky's body. He had cried over him and prayed for him not to go. He had felt numb and lost track of time. Then, he had stood on wobbly legs as people passed arround him and went to get another drink.

Some members of the speakeasy went upstairs, Freckle came down. He stood there, in the room, not taking his eyes of Rocky's body like one watches over something precious that may get stolen

tho it had been taken already. It was like he didn't want anymore damage to come to him.

With the help of Viktor, he had lifted the body and placed it on a mat to drag him off sight, and placed his handkerchief over his face to avoid the sight of his lifeless expresion, open eyes, broken skull

now, Ivy went ahead to open the latch door and the back of the truck as he and Calvin carried the mat with his body upstairs, and drove to the funeral home.

On the way there, in between monstruous silences he told Calvin what he had seen and got the details the doctor was able to discern from the autopsy

The family that worked the funeral home didn't seem very afected by the passing of Rocky. No even surprised. Jasper supposed it was normal given the nature of both their bushiness and Rocky's. He dictated a nice lie for the forged papers as two of them carried the body inside

"he was taking a walk by the river at dusk. Despite his friend's advice, he climbed on the side of the bridge and started playing the violin, riming and dancing as he often did. He did not see or hear the train coming and no one could warn him before he slept and fell. By the time his friends got to the bottom of the hill, he was already dead.

He leaves behind an aunt, a cousin who's more like a brother, a missing father and many friends and coworkers who will dearly miss him"

Jasper's voice had long started to break by the time he got to the last lines. His eyes started watering again

"that much is true"

a final line was aded to the obituary 'he died doing what he loved' say's his devastated friend, 'he was always an artist and a free soul'

after a short while, the lady and her husband ofered the three mourning parties one last goodbye before they nailed the casket close.

"my" said Jasper "you did a good job"

With his fur cleaned and brushed and the wounds carefully knitted, with the solemn pose his body was on, the only telling sign of his death was how still he laid.

Calvin stood for a few moments next to the casket, carassing his now cold hand in a short of reasurance

"I will find whoever did this" he said "I promise" he engraved in his mind the last sight he would have of the boy he grew up with, who, tho wayward, had allways looked out for him. Tho misgided, he had allways sought to cheer him up, find him a job, edge him on with Ivy...

Ivy, who couldn't look at the body without tearing up, and just waited for Calvin to come next to her to hold onto his arm.

Jasper stood next to the casket when his turn came

should he memorice this moment? Or better remember him as he was in life? Should he pretend for a second that Rocky was just asleep, or would that be worse? Should he say something?

He followed his instincts and just bent over to place a silent kiss on his brow.

they brought him to the same cementary near the river where no one would bother to check the dates, and they all took turns digging and burying the casquet.

When it was over Ivy and Calvin turned arround to see Jasper had crumbled down and sobbing on the ground. "I... I cared for him so deeply, I loved him! I loved him so much!" The priest and his brother walked up to the car in respectful silence, but Jasper gestured for Calvin "I need you to know... I need to confess this to someone" Calvin's whole demeanor shifted. He crouched down right next to him, looking like a tiger about to strike "Confess what?" "...I loved him. You don't understand... I loved him the way a man loves a woman" Calvin's ears tilted back. Ivy's expresion went shocked, but they stood still as the cat in shambles continued "I know it's frowned upon, and forbidden and so... But I couldn't help it. I loved him! Just the way he was... I wanted him to be happy. I wanted to make him happy! I wanted to look into his eyes and listen to him everyday for the rest of my life!" He dissolved into uncontrolable sobbing. Ivy and Calvin didn't know what to do

"I... have heared horror stories of what people do to people like us. You think... this is why...?"

Calvin's fur bristled slightly at the idea. It was a possibility, tho he didn't think it was the case: had it been a pasion related crime, the spitefull bullet would have gone to the groin, not the throat.

...but it was still possible fuel to the hatred that led to his cousin's death

"did anyone else know? Did you tell anyone?"

"no! I told him it was dangerous, I told him a thousand times no one could ever know! We were so carefull... whenever we even kissed it was allways in a dark tunnel or something... and we would stop if we heared anyone coming near, we-we didn't even hold hands in public! We were so careful I swear!"

Calvin didn't have much time to process the fact that Jasper just admitted to not only love Rocky romantically, but also to being intimate with him on more than one ocasion. He brushed that thought aside. After all, this was just one more questionable oddity his cousin did on a daily basis without batling an eyelash. He concentrated on the lead

"was he careful? Maybe he told someone, did you ever have any close calls?"

"I don't think so? I don't know! Maybe he did let it slip, maybe it was too ovbious for someone at the speakeasy? ...look, I shouldn't tell you but I think Zib might have known"

"Zib?" asked Ivy

"yes... I think he... well... he swings the same way?"

Calvin took another deep breath. Behind him, Ivy was still recalculating

"I just... I can't believe... that I will grow old, and look back... and remember him. And he will not be there"

he pressed a hand against his face, messing even further his hair

"there'll be no music in my life"

Calvin wondered if his cousin would go to hell, as his mother would suggest, or follow irish tradition and play the violin at crossroads. It sounded like him. He imagined his music echoing throu the dark tunnels of the speakeasy for years to come

"if you do find the guy... do let me know ok? I want to know why"

"I promise"

"thanks. You guys can go now, I'd like to be alone"

And so they did. On the way back from the funeral house, Calvin felt Ivy's hand on his

"can you imagine? Not being able to hold hands?" "well, they seemed happy"

"yeah..."

Ivy leaned onto his shoulder

"they did"

Throug the next few days Jasper would only play his little ocarina when it was quiet and there wasn't many people arround. They were allways slow, melancolic tunes that added to the gloomy hambient. He would then hold the piece to his chest and close his eyes, and breathe.

Then Calvin came back to talk to him, to let him know he had caught the murderer, and made justice by his own hand. He told him why and how the man had taken Rocky's life and Jasper thanked him.

He imagined what he would have done if he had a chance at the guy before Calvin killed him, or if he had known last time he saw the bastard. He imagined himself tackling him to the ground and beating the shit out of him and clawing at his face until he was tired. Then, strangling him with his own hands.

He visited the place where the man's body was disposed. Called out to him, peed on the spot and said "I hope you choke on that. You were lucky I didn't get a chance at you"

After that, Jasper became the newest lackadaisy rumrunner, every bit as reckless as Rocky had been, only less cheerful. Rumor arround was anyday now he would get himself killed, and perhaps that was his intencion.

[rosie-bee]

Bit of a vent/rant but tldr: I kinda need a break and might be offline for a little while. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’d like to be cause I usually like this app, I’ve just had a rough week. I’m not deleting so I’ll still try and respond to actual notifications, but I’m not really going to post and I’m gonna stay away from my dash.

I’ve been just feeling like lately Tumblr and maybe social media in general this past week has felt just extra draining rather than something I actually enjoy. I’m someone who doesn’t like to conflict with people especially mutuals/those I’d consider friends about stuff that technically doesn’t really matter at all. So I kind of tend to just block the source and move on.

Because I don’t like standing up for myself and my interests though, it’s kinda led to this feeling that like… if I stand up for myself at all that I’d be mean and unfair to do so. Even when it comes to stuff I know is blankly false, I feel like the only things that would come of it are either i generally offend someone, get told it’s not that serious, or I’d just end up in an argument over stuff that technically doesn’t really matter.

It’s led to this internal feeling that I’m sure people who know me could attest to that I feel like my interests are less worthy than others. I’ve wrapped my head into circles, convinced that every person I know around me is inherently more interesting and just better than I am. But were I to say that, I’d feel like all I’d get in return is told that I get to emotionally invested, and that it’s wrong for me to take everything I see that’s negative towards what I’m interested in personally.

I have wrapped myself into a belief that if I am not worthy of feeling passionately about things, including things that are typically a positive for me. Which is my own problem but seeing a lot of negativity towards my interests wrapped with feelings that I can’t stand up for them or I’ll just prove someone else’s point, it’s just been mentally really tiring.

As for well, what’s the point of even posting all this? I can’t say I have much of one aside from that I just have stuff I want to get off my chest. There’s little parts of me that really do want to just lash out. The issue there is I have a hard time even allowing myself to just feel my own feelings. Internet culture and mixes of just how I grew up have led me to this strange belief that if what I feel isn’t either agree to disagree feelings or something kind, then I’ve committed some kind of moral evil. I tend to give a significant amount more grace to others than I’m willing to give myself. And I know that all wraps back into that belief that others are inherently better than I am. But my self awareness of my feelings while believing that it is morally wrong for me to feel anything unkind and not completely compassionate are not a good or healthy mix. I have tried for some reason in my twenty years to build up this person who lets nothing get to them, and have had a hard time considering what an enormous ask that is.

So I need some time to try and actually connect with things I really enjoy that isn’t just scrolling endlessly on my social media, and not being able to mentally filter out what I do and don’t want to engage with. I should try and write more, draw, maybe write my own little analysis of all of the music that I like. I’ve had a hard time with deciding to not be on social media for the main reason of I’m just not sure what to fill my time with. For now, I’ll try and get on that. If I’ve got like, messages or interactions from other people I’ll try to respond. I just kinda need to stay of my tumblr dash for a bit.

[twinkskeletons]

okay first off, love you <333 and secondly, it’s gonna. well i can’t promise it’s gonna get better tomorrow or next week but it might, you never know!!! that’s the thing about us (rock bottom sue eye cide craving 20-somethings), things can’t really get much worse anyway so! the only way is up! (<- me forcing myself into optimism so i don’t kms)

what i can promise is that your life isn’t meaningless, waking up isn’t meaningless, getting up isn’t meaningless. hell, staying in bed isn’t meaningless. not in the context of your life, and the things happening around you. and if you think about the context of the universe then all of it is meaningless anyway so might as well reduce it down until you find meaning! otherwise what would be the point of art and literature and music and nature? it’s not gonna matter in the end, but it matters NOW. and so do you. bc how else are you gonna experience all that?

“inherent worth to your life” arguments never worked on me, honestly, and neither did “but the ppl whose lives you make better :(“ ones (they might for you!!!) bc literally they don’t exist really, but what did work on me is realising that kms would mean i wouldn’t get to look at stuff anymore. not read nor write nor listen to music nor rain nor poetry nor watch films and sunrises and birds nesting and the way the sky darkens and the moon. the moon! that big ass rock! illuminated by another’s light and yet the most beautiful thing to lift your eye to! im a bit of a romantic so you know. that worked on me. has been working for like, half a decade now. so you reallllllllllllly gotta find the argument that works on you.

cause there’s stuff that’s important to you, right? reduce it down to that, if you have to, for now, even if it’s one thing. love that one thing with everything you have. it’s gonna get easier to breathe. so breathe. breathe when it’s easy, and breathe extra hard when it’s hard. i believe in you!!!!!!!! “meaning” is so fucking vague anyway. who decides that shit!!! who cares!!! the most important part is that inside you there’s a beating heart whose pumping is testament to the love you feel for whatever it is. there’s meaning in that, i can definitely promise that.

this got. extraordinarily long. so im sorry for giving you the choice to read all that cause really, you don’t have to. but i hope it helps, like, just a little, to recategorize and breaaatheeeeeee. xo

waugh this is so nice thank u :’) i think my biggest problem is that im just. so alone and that will never change and can really only get worse when my entire family disowns me for being trans. only time i talk to people im not related to is when im threatening suicide on tumblr lolll and i kind of dont know how to interact with people outside of that anymore.. not sure i ever did actually my experience with the three friends i made in high school was sitting and listening to them talk to each other and never saying anything myself which. doesn’t really translate to online very well. ur right though there are at least two things i care abt my dogs and my art so i guess i just need 2 really focus on those 👍 keep making merch and planning that potential artist alley table

[let-them-fight]

OK STOP I actually have propaganda for biggering. because this song drives me up a wall like a fucking cat for some reason.

FIRST OFF. I just wanna go off about how this song sounds. Normally when I’m listening to a villain song (as you do, lol), I focus on two things:

• Sound

•Lyrics

Not an uncommon thing but whatever. TO GET TO THE POINT…….. this song sounds fucking insane. I’ve heard it frequently be compared to be akin to a Pink Floyd song and? You know how big of a compliment that honestly is?

Like, to compare it to How Bad Can I be?, which— is by all means a funky pop song— Biggering is just straight up rock opera. And the vocals too absolutely go hard, especially in the final chorus.

But what about the substance?

Biggering, to me, has some fascinating lyrics. Now I know we’re talking about Illumination’s Lorax but REMEMBER: this shit got cut from the film.

Easily the most interesting part to me is the segment where the Lorax himself is singing, and he basically goes on about how it wasn’t just greed that got the Onceler to the point he is at now, but rather— it was the man’s pride that drove that greed to grow hungry for more and more power, causing that hidden pride to grow so big everything else didn’t matter. If his company just kept “biggering”, who cares about the decimation of the trees, the waters, the ecosystem needed to ensure that?

“Who cares if some things are dying?”

The final part of the song is the only part that was mostly kept in the song we got in the film, except for one line.

In How Bad Can I Be, the line(s) are:

“All the customers are buying And the money's multiplying And the PR people are lying And the lawyers are denying Who cares if a few trees are dying?”

And to be perfectly honest, this segment is given no emphasis. Any UMPH is drowned out by the chorus, and even then, the OOOH SINISTER voice doesn’t do it for me. It just sounds cartoonishly goofy.

Comparing it to Biggering:

“With the customers all buying And the money multiplying And the PR people lying And the lawyers all denying Who cares if some things are dying?”

Catch the line change? It’s such a small change that I didn’t even pick up on the first time I listened to this song, but it holds so much more fucking weight.

Because… it’s true. Effectively tearing apart an entire ecosystem isn’t just going to kill “a few trees.” And it’s even better because in this version of the song, this line in particular THE most emphasized line in the song, iirc.

But I want to talk about one more thing. And it’s how throughout the song, the Onceler is never just some… cartoonish edgy poppy singer. And that somehow, as goofy as this is going to sound… makes it somewhat more realistic.

Companies almost never start out with a goal of wanting to gain power and fame by any way they can.

Something like Facebook was created so college students could message each other. Something like Amazon originally just sold books. Something like Disney began because people just… wanted to tell neat stories to the world.

But again, back to pride. It becomes the root of it all, what drives these people to push their companies further and further, what drives the tumblr fucking sexyboy guy to further build up his company, further building up his own pride until— I’m repeating myself, so i’m just gonna let the song explain this shit for me.

“There is a principle of nature that most every creature knows It's called survival of the fittest and this is how it goes The animal that wins has got to claw and kick and punch The animal that doesn't winds up someone else's lunch

A company's an animal That's trying to survive It's struggling and fighting Just to keep itself alive”

TL;DR I like this song. I like it a lot. Vote it.

Villain Song Showdown Bracket B Round 1

The Mob Song (Beauty and the Beast) - Villains: Gaston and the townspeople

Biggering (cut from The Lorax) - Villain: The Onceler

Mod comment: Being in a production of Beauty and the Beast made me realize The Mob Song actually slaps

[malachitezmeyka]

I need to vent. So badly. I need to do it out loud because I’ve had enough of being stuck in my own thoughts

I need to talk to someone who’d actually listen, who wouldn’t chastise me or try to turn everything into a moral lesson or pretend like they know me better than I know myself

It’s why I can’t talk to my mom. Why do I have to live in a world where I can’t talk about my problems to my mom?

She doesn’t get me, not in a “I’m a moody teenager nobody understands me” kind of way, but in a “you know nothing about what I’m going through or crying about, why are you acting like just because you listen to instagram psychologists in your free time means you’re the most enlightened person on god’s green earth??”

I don’t have anyone I could go to. My mom’s out, who’s left? Not my little sister, definitely not my shitty dad. Who else? My grandma’s the reason my mom’s the way she is, so not her. My dad’s SIL is one of my most favourite people in the world but I don’t feel like I can come crying to her, she’s too blunt, too brutally honest. She’s helped me greatly before, but I’d go to her for any problem except emotional.

I don’t want to go to my friends. I already was the cause of a fight that ended a fourteen year friendship. I’ve already showed them that I’m extremely unstable and prone to hysterics. If I start openly crying to them about such seemingly minor things, they’ll get sick of me and I’ll lose them. I don’t know how to make friends. I don’t have anyone else.

And my problems are just so, so stupid. So inconsequential to anyone but me. Even for myself, all they bring are tears and headaches, and yet here I am, sobbing over them again and again, intentionally throwing myself down self hatred spirals that I know every curve of like the back of my hand, going throw the same thought processes that I know will make me upset.

Why do I keep doing it? Do I just like to make myself suffer? Have I no real problems?

If it wasn’t obvious, I’m once again being a whiny bitch about my art

We’ve been here a million times. My skills are nowhere as good as I’d like them to be, I’m complaining about it on tumblr dot com instead of taking steps to improve, when I try to talk about it and people give me actually good advice I get mad and hysterical because I’m not being validated in my useless, self-imposed suffering that will lead me nowhere. Yeah yeah, what else is new?

To get good at art you need to study. You need to look at what other people do, how they create art that you like, and try to learn from it. But whenever I look at people who are more skilled than I am, I turn into a fucking toddler. Why them?? Why are they better than me??? I get so irrationally angry that I literally only follow one artist, a… I suppose ‘friend’ is a nice term, though I don’t know how accurate it is. If it isn’t, then a mutual. And I get insanely jealous of her too, but I’m better at containing it. We don’t talk much, but I still don’t wanna ruin what little relationship we have because of my inability to process my emotions.

Honestly? I’m just tired. Completely fucking exhausted from all these tantrums I throw. It seems I say it so often lately, but I truly am sick of myself. The fits, the crying into my pillow until I get a pounding headache, the pushing everyone away because I can’t stand the embarrassing ordeal of being cared for… I don’t know how much more of it all I can take. I wish I didn’t exist.

My mom sat me down today when she noticed how I angrily shut off my tablet. I spent a year desperate for a shoulder to cry on, so I told her that I’m frustrated by my art, or rather, by the lack of it. I’ve told her before over the phone and she always started lecturing me about not giving up and trying and practicing and how the greats weren’t born great and all that stuff. I thought she’d be different in real life. She wasn’t.

She says I’m lazy. Says I don’t want to learn. That I don’t try. But I do. I try and I try and I try. I create canvases and start sketching and get frustrated and delete them and want to throw my tablet at the wall and snap my stylus in half… but I don’t stop trying. And sometimes, very rarely, I manage to draw something I’m happy with in the moment. Often I’ll think it should be killed with fire in a few days time, but it’s the moment that counts.

Mom tries to teach me theory she doesn’t know. She doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body, yet acts like she’s been drawing all her life. She tells me to trace over art books, to look at cartoons and movies and learn how expressions and poses work. No matter how much I yell, how much I tearfully explain that that’s not the main problem, that if I need to draw something I’ll figure out a way, she won’t listen. She can say she understands all she wants, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t get that I can’t physically visualise what I want to draw

I wanted to make some Green Opal art for a few days now. I’ve only drawn them four times before – walking side by side, sleeping cuddled up, Opal kissing Midori on the cheek and Midori holding Opal as she flips Suyin off. I tried thinking what I’d want to draw them like this time. Sitting together, one’s head on another’s shoulder? Actually kissing on the lips? Bending? Reading a book?

I tried to picture it in my head. I couldn’t come up with anything. I looked at dozens of references. Nothing seemed right. I read through lists of romantic interaction prompts. None of them inspired me. My mind’s eye was completely empty, and I don’t have aphantasia or whatever it’s called, I can normally visualise pretty much anything. But when it comes to art, it’s like someone slips a blindfold over it.

And say I did come up with what to draw – then what? Draw it? With my anatomy so wonky it could classify as body horror? My thick and lifeless lineart that suffers most from my heavyhandedness? My colours which I can never memorise the theory of? My shading which is basic at best and completely nonsensical at worst? And say I did manage to make something decent even with all of that added into the equation – then what? Post it and get a grand total of three notes?

I know art is first and foremost supposed to be for yourself, you’re supposed to enjoy making it and looking at it. But if I don’t, if I hate the process of drawing and the end result so much that sometimes I feel like killing myself over, what else is there for me to do but seek feedback? A spare like. A causal reblog with no added tags. There are days when those serve as my lifeline. Days when the hundreds of screenshots I’ve made over two and a half years of people saying nice things to me are the only things that keep me going. Even if 80% of those are things said by my friends, who are basically obligated to say nice things to me.

But if I hate art so much, why do I keep at it?

I don’t know

To prove something, maybe? To whom? My parents? Myself? Society? Probably not. I don’t have anything to prove

To leave my mark on the internet? To make myself feel like I’m doing something instead of just lazing about all day?

Am I just doing it by inertia because once upon a time a lonely middle schooler convinced herself she was gonna be an artist?

I really don’t know. If it doesn’t make me happy, what’s the point? If the number of people who interact with my art could be counted on one hand, what’s the point? If it drives me to going insane with screaming and crying at least once a week, what’s the fucking point?

I should just quit. It won’t be a big loss. Maybe then my mental health will actually improve, once I stop dragging it down into the gutter with every non finished piece that can barely count as being started

Quit writing while I’m ahead too. It’s not like I’ve written anything in a month anyway. And before that, it took me almost a year and a half to post something. It’s clearly not for me.