#because despite the fact my mother is visually impaired i am not

[counsellormurdock]

Saw your post about Matt and his glasses. Can't speak on why he wears them at night and on the beach other than artist's choice or simply out of habit.

But one reason he might wear glasses in general is a blind person trait. When blind, the pupil has difficulty (or impossibility) sensing light and contracting like it would in a seeing person. If the pupil stays open under bright lights, this can cause damage to the eye. (It's the same reason we don't look at a solar eclipse and why optometrist give you sunglasses after a visit where they dilate your eyes.) Sure a blind person might not sweat further damage (though most legally blind people are not 100% blind), but there's no reason to hurt the eye unnecessarily. Many blind people wear glasses for this reason on top of the fact they claim their unfocussed eyes can make others uncomfortable. (I think it's a subtle character trait of Matt to watch whom he'll take his glasses off with.)

Why Matt's lenses are red is no doubt entirely due to the red motif in his character.

Or none of this matters and Marvel's thought process was, "Blind people wear glasses. Matt is blind. Matt wears glasses."

hi anon, thank you for taking the time to write me! i am well versed in the reasons that the visually impaired might or might not elect to wear glasses, my mother is among this population so it is something i’m very cognizant of but i do appreciate you wanting to share this information because it is something a significant amount of people remain unaware.

my issue with that particular panel is the how little we ever see matt without glasses on, when he’s being matt. yes, there are moments and i’m not including the time he elects not to wear them because he specifically wants to not be perceived as blind. i know it is also a potential symbolic gesture from the artists, but there reaches a point that the symbolism reaches absurdism. and as for making someone uncomfortable, if kirsten is uncomfortable with the fact matt’s eyes can’t focus on her; then she needs to do some soul searching - and i don’t think she is uncomfortable with this aspect of matt.

i have a suspicion that the perpetual wearing of glasses came of the early issues where likely the thought process was blind people wear glasses, matt is blind, matt wears glasses. especially because it is a trope in media for a blind character to act as a visual cue to the audience that this character is blind (the irony is not lost).

and since that’s just how it has always been, that’s how it has stayed. and because marvel does not regularly produce their comics in a medium that the visually impaired can partake (audio or tactile) the population that matt represents has no access to the media which he exists and cannot provide their voice in the representation of his character (let’s not get into how when netflix first released daredevil they did not include descriptive audio).

so i suppose my larger annoyance with this is what is probably a lack of research, understanding, and respect for the visually impaired through matt’s character.

but again, thank you for the ask, thank you for giving me a moment to air my grievances in further depth.

[secretlyatargaryen]

I’ve seen some posts about Toph’s “internalized misogyny” and zero acknowledgements that Toph is a disabled girl and that that entirely informs her performance of gender. Toph’s relationship to femininity is also informed by her parents’ emotional abuse, because as a wealthy girl whose parents saw her as helpless because of her disability, she was expected to be delicate and feminine and a “lady” and seen as capable of little else. She specifically says that she chose to leave polite society and “proper” behavior behind, not because she thinks being a girl is weak or stupid but because she was stifled by the life her parents wanted her to lead, a life where she had no say. She does clash with Katara, one of the most feminine characters, and often seems more comfortable with the boys in the group, but her conflict with Katara is over her difficulty in accepting help from others more than anything, not about a disdain for femininity. She chafes at Katara’s mothering behavior but also clearly misses her own mother, and wishes that her mother, in particular, could see and appreciate her for who she truly is.

If we want to see how Toph views femininity, the best place to look is in the episode “Tales of Ba Sing Se.” Katara and Toph’s segment is short and exists mostly as a fun little filler, but it does tell us some very interesting things about how Toph views herself as a disabled girl. This segment spoke to me in particular as a woman with a visual impairment who struggled similarly with performative femininity as a girl. My aunt also went blind young and I see a lot of her in Toph as well.

The segment begins by poking fun at Toph as a “one of the boys” type of girl who doesn’t think she needs to clean herself up, and Katara is positioned as the “girly girl” whose idea of fun is a spa day. Toph doesn’t think that sounds like fun and it’s easy to dismiss this as internalized misogyny, but putting aside the fact that disliking things associated with compulsory femininity is not the same thing as disliking women - women (and girls) should be allowed to not want to do certain things without being accused of internalized misogyny - Toph’s objection to this becomes less about the fact that it’s feminine when you actually pay attention to what she says.

Toph: The Fancy Lady Day Spa? [Sarcastically.] Sounds like my kinda place.

Katara: Are you ready for some serious pampering?

Toph: Sure, Katara, whatever you say. As long as they don't touch my feet.

The very next scene is Toph looking incredibly uncomfortable as the spa attendants touch her feet. This is played for laughs, because Toph is a girl who doesn’t care about getting her feet dirty, but remember that Toph’s feet are her way of interacting with the world. She specifically said that she didn’t want her feet touched, and was ignored. I’m not saying that Katara or anyone is awful for forcing this on her, I’m saying that this is simply just not something she is going to enjoy. She consents to it anyway because Katara is her friend, and she does genuinely end up enjoying the rest of the spa day and makes an effort because Katara wants her to.

Toph: Well, that wasn't so bad. I'm not usually into that stuff but I actually feel ... girly.

Katara: I'm glad. It's about time we did something fun together.

Cut to a shot of the two crossing a bridge over a creek. As they do, they pass three girls going the other direction. Shot cuts to Katara and Toph from behind the girls.

Girl with umbrella: Wow, great make-up.

Toph: Thanks.

Girl with umbrella: For a clown!

The three girls laugh, Toph's smile is replaced by a frown as she and Katara stop walking. Katara puts her arm over Toph's shoulder, attempting to console her.

This scene actually made me go still when I watched it because I don’t think I’ve ever seen my experience with makeup addressed in a show like this. Toph admits that this is not something she is used to but she does enjoy feeling “girly” for once, and she also enjoys being complemented on her appearance, until she realizes that she’s being made fun of. This is when we see a side of Toph that we are rarely privy to, the more vulnerable side of her who can be hurt by the words of others. Specifically, a group of older girls. This tells us that despite Toph’s choice to discard compulsory femininity, underneath there is a deep insecurity at her ability to measure up.

And maybe you can’t realize this unless you actually have lived with a visual impairment, but what this scene highlights is that Toph can’t actually see what she looks like, with or without makeup. Being made up like this is a privilege for her, and one she can only experience through other people. So she can be happy about it when she’s with her friend, or when other girls compliment her, but when other girls insult her, she feels deeply the rejection. She can’t feel empowered the way that I see people talk about makeup culture being empowering, because she can only view herself through the eyes of others. I’m not saying that people with visual impairments can’t ever enjoy makeup or can’t wear it for themselves, and I myself enjoy makeup, but I also specifically relate to Toph’s feelings about it and how hard it is for her.

Katara: Don't listen to them, let's just keep walking.

Shot cuts to the face of Star, who is one of the three girls.

Star: I think she looks cute. Like that time we put a sweater on your pet poodle monkey.

Third girl: Good one, Star.

Katara: [Angrily.] Let's go, Toph.

This is just...so awfully dehumanizing. Anyone who sees Toph can immediately tell that she is visibly disabled, that she’s different. She can’t pass as able bodied and her performance of femininity reflects that. Even when she is made up and looking hyper-feminine, it’s obvious that this isn’t how she looks all the time. It’s also obvious that she didn’t do her own makeup as she has a very “professionally done” look in this scene. The girls who pick on Toph do so because she’s a very obvious target, a disabled girl who is clearly uncertain about her performance of femininity.

Katara: Those girls don't know what they're talking about.

Toph: It's okay. One of the good things about being blind is I don't have to waste my time worrying about appearance. [Cut to a close-up of Toph's face.] I don't care what I look like. I'm not looking for anyone's approval. I know who I am. [She stops walking, and she cries a bit.]

Katara: That's what I really admire about you, Toph. You're so strong, and confident, and self-assured. [Toph sniffs.] And I know it doesn't matter, but ... [Keeps her palm on Toph's shoulder.] You're really pretty.

Toph: [Turning to Katara, smiling.] I am?

Katara: Yeah, you are.

Toph: I'd return the compliment, but I have no idea what you look like. [Katara laughs.] Thank you, Katara.

The segment ends not with Toph rejecting the spa day or femininity, but an acknowledgment of both her strength in choosing to be her own person and her vulnerability because Toph is, at the end of the day, a girl, who has lived all her life with the pressures of compulsory femininity, pressures that for most of her life were imposed upon her without any say, because her parents treated her like she had no say in her own life. Toph also is happy to be called pretty by Katara, and makes a joke about not being able to return the compliment, a reminder that “pretty” is something that can’t mean the same thing to Toph as it does to other people because she can’t see. Toph isn’t going to experience being a girl the same way that other people do. And that’s okay.

[phanique]

Crush 原来我很喜欢 Drama Sort of Review

So more info about the drama here https://mydramalist.com/63989-crush

I am not a good critic, just a casual drama watcher. I have also read the novel this was based on and also watched the drama in Chinese without English subtitles.

I personally would rate this drama a 7.9/10. Spoilers below.

Firstly, the acting is good enough for me to enjoy it without it annoying me. The main leads are played by Wan Peng and Li Yan Jun. I have no idea who he was before this drama and I do think his acting is not bad here. It is definitely hard to act as a visually impaired person but he definitely is more natural when he does not need to act as a visually impaired person.. Wan Peng on the other hand if you know me, I am a big career fan of hers after I started watching Meeting You and I have seen almost all her works because I really like her acting and this time it is not different. She is definitely suited for the tomboyish, independent lady type of storyline where she is not outstandingly beautiful. I do think I prefer her acting in Meeting You more but it is not really a downgrade. I do hope she explores more areas of acting.

Secondly, the plot is okay for me. I would not say it is super realistic since I have not seen anybody who is like 'OMG this lyricist is awesome, I am a big fan of him despite the fact that no one has seen them before, and that he only has like 2 songs published'. I do like that they brought some awareness to visually impaired people and children who are in the adoption system. However, there are 2 parts that I am still unsure of. First, why does he dislike his father and similarly, why does he dislike his mother. What made Wu Yan feel threatened in a sense to ask him to choose between her and his stepmother?

OST wise I do think it is okay too. If you played the song in public, I would definitely recognise it but definitely not my favourite OST.

I would give them credit for following so closely to the novel since this is probably a drama that followed so closely to the original work. I would say maybe 97% of what appeared in the novel is in the drama.

The romance here is pretty sweet but not enough for me to ship them. A good amount of skinship here for a 24 episode drama.

[taco-taco-belle]

, A crack in the ice Chapter 1

Authors notes

This is my first ever writing piece, I hope you guys enjoy it! As some of you know I am visually impaired, which means I do not read print like a lot of you do, Because of this there will probably be a lot of punctuation errors and I am really sorry about it. I tried my best to remember everything about how print works, and hope you can still enjoy the story! My messages and ask box are always open if any of you want to pop in, and notify me about punctuation mistakes and words that were spelled wrong in my writing, or just to say hi!💜

Summary

Ever since the battle of Hogwarts, and the defeat of you know who along with his death eaters, The Wizarding World has been at peace. Wizards and witches feel secure, and don’t expect any nasty surprises or uprisings in the near future. So what happens when alliances against them form in the most unlikely places, And a new struggle for power begins? Well, the newest generation at Hogwarts is about to find out!

Lucie gave a cat like stretch, and tossed her quill onto the table in front of her. She squinted down at her watch, it was a quarter to midnight, and they had to meet the others in 15 minutes. Lucie Felt the nervous excitement, that always came when she was about to do something she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing, mixed with exhaustion. It had taken much longer than previously anticipated, to finish her potions essay on the draft of a ternal sleep. Matthew seated beside her wasn’t even halfway through his own essay he kept sneaking glances at Lucie’s when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Christopher was seated in his favorite arm chair by the fire, immersed in one of his well thumbed notebooks.

Christopher usually did not join Lucie, And Matthew when they did school work together, In the Ravenclaw common room. This wasn’t because he didn’t enjoy spending time with his friends, Christopher was very intelligent, and had an amazing memory. this meant that he excelled in all of their classes, and finished assignments incredibly quickly. instead of using his ample amount of free time to socialize with his friends, he spent it on his research. He was fascinated in the ways that everything magical, and non-magical function. None of his friends ever got annoyed at Christopher for this, they knew it was what he enjoyed doing. If it made her cousin happy then Lucie was satisfied.

Lucie scanned the common room. Ravenclaws despite their reputation of put togetherness, And Great organizers were a very untidy bunch. Scraps of parchment, with half thought out calculations, and ideas scribbled on them, Lay strewn across tables, and chairs. Broken quills lay beside chocolate frog wrappers, and empty ink bottles. The mess looked even worse contrasted against the common rooms elegantly arched ceiling covered in constellations, And spotless white bookshelves. She wasn’t judging her fellow comrades housekeeping however, Lucie was making sure everyone else had gone up to bed.

Matthew gave her a teasing grinn, which Lucie ignored. They both knew that the last Ravenclaws, A group of giggling fifth year girls had made their way upstairs, A half an hour ago. Despite this, Lucie had been nervously glancing over her shoulder, every five minutes. The sick feeling at the pit of her stomach had been increasing, as the night wore on. Lucie suffered from terrible nerves, every time they snuck out of Ravenclaw Tower, ever since she was 12 years old. In fact, she suspected they had only intensified throughout the years. Matthew treated the situation as he treated everything else, not very seriously.

He always tried to reassure her, By pointing out the fact, that if they hadn’t gotten caught by now, they probably never would. In response to this, Lucie would always remind him that she was the head girl of Ravenclaw, And Matthew was both there Quidditch team captain, and the Minister of Magic‘s youngest son! So they couldn’t afford, to rely on probably. She would suffer through her nerves, however to be able to spend a few hours spending time with her beloved friends, each week.

“Luce shouldn’t we get going?” Matthew inquired, looking over at her. She nodded, neatly rolling up her essay, and stuffing it inside her school bag along with her quill, And ink bottle. Matthew looked down at his essay, and side dramatically. “I guess I shall have to bring this accursed piece of paper along!” Lucy gave Matthew a questioning look. Shall?, but all she said was “I am sure you can get Daisy to help you.” He made a face at her, and she grinned. They both knew, that he would prefer to work with James, or Thomas. Cordelia was one of Lucie’s favorite people in the world, but even she could admit that Daisy could be a little intimidating at times.

Though Cordelia could be withdrawn at times, she always gave off a quiet aura of confidence and authority. Lucie doubted that her best friend, was even aware of this aspect of her personality. She knew with certainty though, that they played a big role in Cordelia being Quidditch captain, And head girl of Gryffindor house. Whenever Daisy helped Math with his homework, she watched him intently the entire time to make sure he was focused, and didn’t put up with his dramatics. Jamie on the other hand, usually ended up getting into trouble with Matthew, or just doing most of the assignment for him. They were best friends as close as Lucie and Cordelia, and had been best friends before even coming to Hogwarts.

Matthew gave her one of his best winning smiles “ come on Luce help someone in need.” She Scoffed “ oh don’t try that on me Math. I have been immune to your charms since you tried to eat Christopher’s pet ladybug Mr. spots on a dare from my brother when we were eight.” He frowned “ not One of my finest moments. It’s a good thing father stopped me, I’ve heard ladybugs are positively ghastly for one’s complexion!” Lucie wasn’t even going to bother asking, where Matthew had gotten said information. “ Matthew no matter how many times you refer to my father as yours it will not make it true.“ and I still haven’t gotten over Mr. spots you know.” Christopher said quietly from the fire. Lucie laughed, You never knew when Christopher was listening and when he wasn’t. Sometimes she would recount a long story to him, or an explanation of something, before realizing that he wasn’t paying attention in the slightest. Christopher wasn’t rude he was just, as his older sister Anna put it off in his own world.

Matthew gave them both Hurt looks “ no respect even from my closest friends!” “ you’ll get respect from me when you finish your essay.” She said, Pointing to the piece of paper on the table in front of him. “ you’ll never get it from me.” Christopher said matter-of-factly, Turning a page of his notebook. Matthew waved his wand, and sent all of his possessions including the much hated essay flying into his bag, in an unorderly jumble.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart, Matthew was as intelligent as all of his fellow Ravenclaw’s. He would just rather do the spells, and potions they were assigned. Then in his words “ wasting hours of my life shut up in Ravenclaw Tower, up to my ears in books, and essays depriving the world of my many talents!” His friends also knew, though he would never admit it that Matthew struggled sometimes under the expectations set for him. His mother Charlotte was the minister of magic, and his older brother Charles had been head boy of Ravenclaw house. Everyone was always watching him, waiting to see if he would be another success of the family, Or a screwup that they were secretly ashamed about. The professors, even treated him differently than the rest of the class sometimes. This caused Matthew to say rude things in class, and act out sometimes. Lucie, And her brother never stayed mad at him for long because of it though, they knew he was just constantly under a lot of stress. Matthew was at his best when he was with his friends.

He looked over at her his dark green eyes reflecting the fire light, as if he knew she had been thinking about him. “ ready to go?“ yep.” She replied, standing up and crossing the dark blue carpeted floor to Christopher, as Matthew bent to retrieve their brooms from their hiding place beneath the table. Beside Matthews chair Oscar wined. Oscar Wilde, was Matthews much adored golden retriever. He had been a present from James, back in their fourth year, for Matthews birthday. Oscar hated it every time they left him at night, he was incredibly loyal to Matthew and his friends. Whenever they were in the common room he would follow Matthew wherever he went. Matthew spoiled Oscar to no end, and loved his dog as much as Oscar loved him. They even bared a resemblance to each other, With the same shaggy golden hair, and green eyes, though Oscars were much lighter than Matthews.

She gave Christopher a gentle tap on his shoulder “ Time to go Kit.” In the space of about a minute, her cousin had slipped back into his own world. He blinked his dark blue eyes up at her, from behind his gold rimmed spectacles. They were the same as Lucie’s father, and aunt Cecily’s. Though their other cousins, Thomas, Barbara, and Eugenia did not share them. he blinked “ is it? Odd how quickly time passes, we were just talking about my poor ladybug Mr. spots.” He glared over at Matthew, who was stroking Oscar’s floppy ears. His own, and Lucie’s brooms on the floor beside them. She didn’t bother telling Christopher that it had only been a minute or so, instead she went to the window, and slid it open. Freezing night air streamed into the room, causing the fire to sputter wildly in it’s grate. Lucie was glad for the cold air, she leaned out the window taking in big lung fulls of it. Enjoying how it helped clear her nerves, and wake her up.

Matthew tide their bags to the back of her broom, with a practiced hand. As Oscar Wilde sat looking up at him with a disgruntled expression. Christopher gave Matthews broom a look that matched Oscars, he despised flying he was the only member of their group that was not on there house quidditch team. He didn’t even own a broom, Christopher said he would prefer to keep his feet on the ground at all times. He usually rode on the back of Matthews broom, and Lucie carried her own, and Matthews school bags on the back of hers. There was usually no need to bring Christophers, since he almost always had all his work complete. Sometimes Lucie would leave some of her work to the last minute on purpose. So she could work on it with Cordelia. Even though they had had this routine in place since their second year at Hogwarts, Christopher still hadn’t adjusted to it.

Matthew and Christopher joined her at the window, as Oscar slunk over dejectedly, to a spot by the fire, no doubt to wait for their return a few hours later. Matthew handed Lucie her broom, it was a bit awkward with the two bags tied to the end of it but, they managed to get it out the window, where it floated there like an odd bird. Matthew performed in over the top bow, and held his hand out for her to take “ my lady your chariot awaits. Lucie rolled her eyes at him, but took his outstretched hand. Usually in the winter months they needed to help each other clamber out of the window, since the sill was usually slick with ice. She climbed up onto the cold slippery stones. The sharp edges of them bit into her knees through her robes. Wincing Lucie began to slide off the ledge, and Matthews warm fingers still clutched tightly in hers, into the still dark Night below.

I really hope you guys liked this! if you could please like, And reblog, And don’t be shy you can leave a note telling me what you liked, and didn’t like about this first chapter. I will try to post the next one as soon as I possibly can, although I don’t know when that will be. I promise the next one will be a lot more interesting, I just needed to put a lot of set up in this first one. I hope you guys are all staying safe and healthy!❤️

[makerkenzie]

Well now I’ve done it.

It’s finally happened. I knew this day would come.

Putting this biz under a cut because it’s a lot. Content note: I am a terrible person and this shit is hilarious to me.

Someone wrote this reblog of my “Tell me what you want” post. Not going to link because I’m not interested in sending this person any more traffic. 

Screenshots! 

CAPTIONS for the benefit of my visually impaired readers:

Did OP just say that Tywin wasn’t guilty of the murder of Elia Martell and her children? What?!

Tywin’s actions of allowing the rape and murder of Elia and her kids were a war crime. It was a war crime back then as it is now. Ned Stark condemned Robert and Jon Arryn so much for not punishing Tywin for his actions that Ned fell out with Robert over that for over a year. In fact, 17 years later after the act, Ned still distrusted and mislikes the Lannisters despite the time that lapsed between them and that he still went to war with Lannisters at his side.

It’s funny how OP crucified the Martells for seeking vengeance and justice for the unnecessary murder of Elia, but doubt they would do the same for Robb Stark for seeking vengeance and justice on the Lannister for decapitating Ned Stark. And Ned publically admitted to his charges who would, in the world of aSoIaF, still be justly executed. I doubt OP judged the Karstarks of wanting vengeance against House Stark for killing Rickard Karstark despite his crimes. It’s funny OP brings up Jonos Bracken, a House famous for constantly warring against house Blackwood for some slight done way in the past. Doubt OP judges them for the right of wanting vengeance on each other for generations long. Oh no, it’s only the Martells who have to admit that it was meh what Tywin did and just move on with their lives.

Bringing up Viserys like Doran wanting a Targaryen restoration isn’t exactly what would hurt the Lannisters (and by extent the Baratheons) the most. Doran doesn’t hold Viserys by the actions of Aerys the same way he doesn’t hold Myrcella for the actions of her mother and grandfather. They were children and not active of the crime. So OP’s point of that is moot.

The Martells deserved justice. And Robert Baratheon failed to give them that. Tywin lived on and was rewarded. The Mountain and his men lived on and were rewarded. Ned Stark himself was so disgusted even with that rewarding of men who were war criminals, that he lived secluded in the North without speaking to his once best friend and now king for about 15 years. No justice was owed to the Martells for so long that Oberyn broke plans and went on ahead to seek it himself.

OP you’re not the first to act this way and you’re definitely not the last so, just admit you’re racist and hate the Martells nor care for them and go. Don’t need to fill the Martells nor Elia’s tag with nonsense when you most likely not hold the same standards to the other houses. House Manderly killed the Freys as guest at their seats in the name of justice for the murdered Robb Stark, where are your “so-called” metas there for how they shouldn’t want justice for those deaths. It wasn’t just the Freys who had a hand in that murder but, guess what, Tywin Lannister who still continued to do war crimes bc he got bested by a 15 year old.

On top of all your nonsense, you’re regarding everyone’s sense of justice through the lens of someone in the 21st century. In the (medieval-ish) feudal world of aSoIaF, things aren’t as simple as you make them out to be, other than the fact that you’re unfair to the Martells, wrong entirely about the Lannisters and plain out stupid for disregarding what the text is clearly saying.

Source:

makerkenzie

#seen your bullshit before and didn’t want to say shit but goddamn you’re not only annoying but you’re WRONG too

#mr. Martin pls release your books already so these fools can shut the hell up

#I’m tired of people misinterpreting your work mr. Martin pls

#imagine someone out there actually DEFENDING Tywin fucking Lannister??????? are you... are you alright?

#pfft. goodbye son

Yep, there it is.

I only criticize the Martells because I am a racist! Now I can die happy. 

Not that I’m gonna stop this biz any time soon, mind. 

What really makes this response *chef’s kiss* beautiful is the part where they openly admit that they assume I would never write comparable criticisms of people like Robb Stark, Rickard Karstark and Jonos Bracken. 

When you ASSUME, you make an ASS of U and ME.

(Although I feel just fine.)

The decision goes like this: they haven’t read any of my posts outside the Martell criticisms, they’ve hardly read most of my Martell criticisms outside this one post, and they’ve only skimmed this one post enough to see me making this defense of Tywin Lannister:

I’ve said it before: Tywin Lannister was a monster. It is known. That doesn’t mean 1) that everything he ever said and did was wrong, 2) that every single accusation against him was accurate, or 3) that every vendetta against him is righteous.

(clearly I’ve lost my mind)

...so they just decide that I could not possibly have similar criticisms of other ASOIAF characters, which means I’m singling out the Martells, which means I hate brown people. And we know I must not have written about those other characters because we’ve already established that I’m a filthy racist who just resents the Martells.

I’ve been writing ASOIAF metas on this blog for years. The overwhelming majority of my analysis doesn’t appear in the Martell or Elia tags. In fact I have written critical metas on Robb Stark, Rickard Karstark, and the Brackens & Blackwoods. (It’s true I may not have said much about Wyman Manderly.) Not to mention I’ve written copious meta on the many horrors of Tywin Lannister. I’m no stranger to Ned Stark’s argument with Robert about the “dragonspawn.” 

I don’t like having to repeat myself.

If I dropped a list of links to my posts slamming the Westerosi McWhitersons for their jackass throne-gaming and blood-feuding, then would they stop telling me to shut up and go away? 

Nah, they’d just shift the goalposts again. They always find a way.

That last bit about my “21st century worldview” is such a perfect sphere of ridiculousness I won’t sully it with my greasy fingerprints. Just let it sit there and shine.

Oh, and those tags. Oh, dear. I may be a disgusting racist piece of shit for examining this story; I’m not the one writing it. GRRM is not on your side. If you expect the last two books to vindicate the Martells, it’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt like a bath in dragonfire. 

Stay mad, comrade. Your hate makes me stronger.

[draco-omega]

10 months ago, I decided to make a game.

10 months later, I have a bunch of art and a bunch of interface code and a whole pile of design notes, and not much game.

This is my story.

(Now in bullet point form so that I can stop redrafting it >.>)

I have a treatment-resistant anxiety disorder which significantly interferes with my ability to work - both on my own projects and other things that might be called 'gainful employment'. (I still feel some shame at admitting this so bluntly, even though I feel ideologically that there should be no more shame in this than any physical impairment that resulted in the same. Fuck mental health stigma, defining self-worth by employment is toxic capitalist dogma, etc, etc.)

In part because of this, I had been effectively unemployed and living with my mother for a number of years. (I still did my best to hammer out projects, but nothing, y'know, actually PAID anything... >.>)

Then in late 2017, my mother died (somewhat unexpectedly) of cancer, which left me with no home (we'd been sharing an apartment that she had been covering most of the rent on) and literally zero income. Obviously grief and upheaval did not help with any of my prior difficulties managing employment, either.

After some debate, I decided to combine the savings I had left over from my last stint as a network administrator with a (modest) inheritance from my mother and try to actually make a living at making games. This is something I had always theoretically wanted to do, but never put actual money on the line for. (Okay, in a perfect world, I'd happily give all my work away for free and live on some minimum guaranteed income, but we do not yet live in such a world).

One of my historically biggest gamedev weaknesses was a lack of artistic ability, so this seemed a perfect thing to put money towards. I could hire an artist, which would not only allow me to make a more commercially appealing product, but would also free me up to focus on the mechanical and writing aspects of gamedev, which are the areas I most wanted to be working on and also consider myself best at. (Any followers that remember my work on ToK may recall me complaining there about how it seemed I spent my time on nothing but graphics? >.>

This was shortly after Touhou fangames had been given the official blessing to be sold on Steam, and some had already achieved great success there, so this seemed like a good way to create some instant appeal and interest in my game, while working with a franchise that I already loved to death and had written hundreds of thousands of words of fanfiction for (eg: This or that or this other thing)

And so Chronicle of False History was born!

...and yet I somehow still spent most of my time working on art. You see, having never worked with an actual artist before, I underestimated a number of things:

1) I underestimated how much work it would be to find a suitable artist in the first place (though at least this part is done)

2) I gravely underestimated how much of my time would be spent on 'art direction' or 'project management' or whatever you want to call it.

Every sprite that is created, even for canonical character designs, requires making a large number of decisions regarding:

What attack and spell poses it will have (and how to cover the broadest range of signature abilities with just two 'frames', for budget reasons)

Which of enumerable (and sometimes mutually-exclusive) costume details from canon (and fanon) should be selected (and do you have any idea just how many variations there are on things as straightforward as 'the hilt of Miko's sword'?)

Gathering a pile of reference images that clearly detail every element of the character (and action poses) to be drawn (which is also harder than you might think; a lot of art is sufficiently suggestive of details to view without actually being a good reference to reproduce and anything that isn't exactly what I'm looking for risks my artist misunderstanding my request entirely)

Designing alternate-history variants of this character in a way that can be clearly conveyed with minimal costume and color changes alone (as any significant redrawing would cost far more and the cast of the game is so large already) and doing so before the part of the game they would appear in is even written.

Gathering reference images for all of those things

Writing up a detailed description of all the decisions listed above (and often drawing actual diagrams of action poses and projectile overlays that are ambiguous to express with just words) and handing it over to my artist

Waiting a while, then getting sketches back and finding out that there is inevitably a whole pile of things that need changing (either because the artist misunderstood my request entirely - despite all that previous effort - or because an idea of mine looked far better in my own head than it does, or just the usual 'incremental improvements' to something that is on the right track but not quite there - like a sort of collaborative redrafting.)

Spending hours poking at these sketches in an image editor, testing how well individual details resolve at in-game size, how well the action frames snap together, and how I feel about each questionable element. This often extends to (crudely) adjusting and readjusting the position and angle of individual limbs and eyebrows and projectiles that feel 'off' so that I can figure out what I would like her to do with them (and whether it's even worth making her take the effort to do anything with them at all)

Finally, summarizing that feedback into a detailed list of change requests (often with new diagrams to clarify my words) and repeating the last two steps over and over and over again.

Like, she does great work - don't get me wrong. I'm very pleased with the end results and this is just an inevitable part of the process of making something professional. But it does also mean that my original idea that paying an artist would free me up to work on things other than art has been... laughable in retrospect, to say the very least. In fact, it's very possible that a greater percentage of my dev time is spent on art-related tasks than on previous projects where I was doing all the art myself - I just get better art for my trouble (and money....)

This is especially true given that:

3) I underestimated just how much art work I would still need to do completely independently of her

Raven is doing character sprites. These are arguably the most individually important art content in the game, and certainly the ones that give it the most screenshot appeal, but that has left me to do everything else. Which has included:

Figuring out how to make battle backgrounds that passably match the art style of the game (since commissioning enough of these to fill all the locations needed would absolutely blow my budget)

Designing the entire look and feel of the combat screen to mesh well with Raven's sprites while also being something I am personally capable of making (using only cheap/free resources)

Creating all tweened animations and particle effects

Designing every single little UI element that exists in the game:

Elemental symbols

Dialogue boxes

Spellcard icons (and the entire menu design that requires them in the first place)

Combat action menus

Icons to indicate spellcard usability

Spellcard tooltips

Targeting overlays

A turn order bar

Spellcard availability reminders

Font choice for damage/healing numbers, spellcard names,

More cursors that you can shake a stick at

Lots more stuff, I'm sure

And even the completed sprites I get from Raven still need multiple hours of processing each to split them into component parts with sufficient information to re-composite and animate in-game. (If you've ever wondered why my screenshots seem to only involve Nazrin while I've already shown sprites for multiple other characters, this is why)

It never ends!!

...which is a fact that has been extremely draining. Like, it is probably difficult to overstate just how demoralizing it has been to pay this much money and work this hard and long and still somehow be mostly doing art (or visual-related coding) when I naively thought this project would offer some freedom from this after the endless, endless hours I spent doing this for ToK.

And it has also revealed a very tangible (and extremely stressful and troubling) fact about this game's development:

I am going to run out of money before I am remotely close to having a saleable product

When I first laid out plans for this project, I ballparked a modest but realistic budget for the artwork. I chose an art style that could provide pleasing visuals for a very large cast of characters at a cost-effective rate (for a game, at least). I deliberately limited my cast size based upon the agreed-upon cost per character with my artist (and have repeatedly held myself back from various fun ideas because I felt I simply could not afford to make a habit of such things). I studied sales figures for comparable games to aim for a target that had a reasonable probability of sufficient return (or at least breaking even). Game development is always a gamble, of course, but I felt (and still feel) that I made a sensible budget call and it was an amount I was fully able to pay.

But in all this, I neglected to factor in what has been, by far, my most costly development expense: remaining alive.

You see, at the rate my artist is able to produce work, the cost of retaining her is utterly dwarfed by such banal things as food and rent and not freezing to death in the winter. I live about as modest a lifestyle as possible - a one-room apartment, no car, no eating out, nothing in the way of luxuries (I don't even own a cell phone) - but that is still awfully expensive when you have no income and no prospect of it in the immediate future either.

It's a vicious cycle. The less work I get done, the more I feel future financial pressures breathing down my neck, the less work I'm able to get done (due to stress and general demoralization), the more I feel future financial pressures, etc, etc, etc.

And there's a logistical problem even outside of my own stress and anxiety and being damnably human in my need for actual rest: I've spent nearly 10 months working together with my artist and thus have a pretty good sense of how fast she's able to get character art done. And unless something changes dramatically, the time required for her to finish the art assets for the game will be several years longer than I will have any savings left to pay for them - because, as it turns out, hiring an artist is actually a tiny expense compared to merely continuing to exist.

I... don't really have a good answer for this problem and I've spent a lot of time consumed by it at this point. I have faith that Chronicle of False History can be a great game... eventually. But that does no one any good if I can't stay afloat long enough to make it. I've considered pivoting to another smaller-scope game project in the meantime, in the hopes of generating some modest influx of cash that could be used to fund the rest of CoFH's development, but there are a whole slew of reasons this is dicey (not least of which is that small-scope projects have a tendency to not be nearly as small as one anticipates...)

I've also thought about exploring Patreon, but like... I'm fully aware that I don't currently produce nearly enough interesting content for people to just want to throw money at. Tantalizing glimpses of it, perhaps. The promise that in the future I might. But what do I really have to show for this at the moment?

And so, here I am, exhausted by a marathon of work I did not properly anticipate and without the tangible reward I'd expected to have by this point (not a finished game, by any means, but like... much more of one than I actually have). And every month that passes by in which I get less done on my game than anticipated is yet more cash bleeding out of my bank account, like I'm trapped on a badly leaking boat with no shore in sight. I need a rest from all these stressors (and some more personal ones not described here), but when time spent not working has itself become a stressor these days, where can I even find it?

...wow, this sure sounded upbeat, huh?

In any case, I still care a lot about CoFH and have no intention of stopping work on it. I just... need to figure out some way to allow myself to continue to do so without this enormous capitalist behemoth crushing me beneath it.

(I had originally intended to provide more of an overview of the useful work accomplished over these past 10 months here, with mockups showing the evolution of the game's visual design, but clearly that goes into a future post at this point).

[jonghyundroppedthesoap]

My Number One Fan

Chapter 5 Pairing: JongKey Word Count: 2,922 Summary: Kibum goes to the same, run-down bar every week to watch the man of his affections sing his heart out with a mere guitar for company. He wasn’t expecting the coffee, nor the beautiful personality within the singer. And he definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love.

A/N: originally posted on @ourshineeshrine

Kibum and Jonghyun’s drinks arrived shortly, and Kibum had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t dreaming – or perhaps visually impaired.

“Is this seriously mine? How much chocolate is on this thing?!” he exclaimed, jaw dropping as he compared his beverage to Jonghyun’s.

“Trust me, Kibum…I know it looks too sweet but it’s actually so good. One sip and you’ll be hooked.” assured Jonghyun, smiling cheekily in Kibum’s direction as he pushed the younger’s drink closer to him across the smooth table surface.

Kibum rolled his eyes jokingly at Jonghyun’s immatureness, nonetheless moving the straw to his lips to take a testing sip. Despite his prior cautiousness, his eyes widened immediately as the chocolatey beverage landed on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but grin at the knowing look on Jonghyun’s face.

“Good?”

Kibum swallowed his mouthful before nodding enthusiastically, a delighted grin spreading over his cheeks. “Very good.”

“I told you so,” sang Jonghyun, a smirk resting on his lips as he took a sip from his own coffee.

Kibum scoffed at his arrogance, his wide grin still not fading in the slightest. “Whatever, Mr. Know-It-All.”

Jonghyun chuckled softly and began to tap his fingers rhythmically against the side of his cup. “Don’t act so annoyed, Kibum-ah. Let’s not forget the small fact that you are indeed a fan of mine.”

Kibum flushed, down-casting his eyes to avoid Jonghyun’s infuriating, amused look.

“But I am curious - of all the artists out there, how is it that you know all my songs…and enjoy them?”

“You’re kidding right? Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” responded Kibum, raising an incredulous eyebrow as his lips tilted up slightly at the ends.

“I’m serious!” defended Jonghyun, shooting Kibum his puppy dog eyes in hopes of receiving an honest answer.

Kibum sighed exasperatedly and shook his head softly in disbelief. “Fine. I saw the posters around town advertising, and so I came the first night you were there. I wasn’t expecting much –“

Jonghyun scoffed playfully, jaw dropped in offense. Kibum ignored it however and continued nonetheless, blush across his cheeks growingly steadily the more he spoke.

“–But when you sang it just showed that you’re different from the other artists out there. You sing with real feelings, and your songs just have these beautiful lyrics that actually mean something important and touch the people who listen to them. I think…I keep coming back every week because I merely enjoy listening to your beautiful voice, filled with emotion, sing songs that hold meanings deeper than meets the eye.”

After Kibum finished his mini speech, a strange silence rested between the two, and Kibum could feel all the blood rush to his face in pure embarrassment. He quickly diverted his eyes to stare at the drink before him, not wanting to see the look he knew would appear on Jonghyun’s face. Just as Kibum began to felt as though he would die of shame, a shaky voice knocked him out of his reverie and cut through the silent tension between them like a knife.

“Thank you.”

Kibum’s head whipped up quickly to face Jonghyun, blinking in shock at the tears that rested in the corner of the older boy’s eyes. “What?”

“Thank you so much…You really don’t know how much that means to me.”

“It’s really nothing–“ began Kibum, only to be cut off as Jonghyun continued to speak.

“All throughout my school years, teachers and family friends couldn’t understand why I skipped classes to hang out in the music room every day. They would always tell me that music has no future. That I have to be smart to succeed. They could never accept the fact that I was never going to be intelligent…but they just kept on rubbing it in my face.” he spoke, eyebrows furrowed in anger at the thought of the teacher’s negativity and the harsh words they said to him.

“Recently I’ve been having doubts…Were the teacher’s right? After all, I haven’t gotten very far since I finished school; I thought the music industry would be easier, y’know? I keep thinking that maybe I should’ve gone to university like everyone else. Tried harder in school. But with what you just said about my music and how it affects you, I realise that maybe this hasn’t been so pointless after all. I’m doing what I always dreamed of doing…and there are indeed people who appreciate it. So thank you.”

Kibum sat in silence, taking in each and every word Jonghyun spoke with full attention. He didn’t realise that the older male had faced it so tough to be where he was today. And to still have doubts with a talent like that? It was insane. But Kibum knew what the teachers could be like, and therefore understood Jonghyun completely.

“University is overrated. People go into university and they all come out the same. With a feeling of superiority and nothing but a degree to defend themselves with. The degree merely proves that they passed a few tests and sat through a large load of lectures. Sure, it’s hard…And I do respect those who go through their whole degree because it isn’t easy. Hell, I’ll probably end up going to university. But you’re unique. You have a talent that so many people would die for. For you, it’s harder than passing a few tests. You can’t learn to love your career. And you can’t learn to sing in a way that gives people goosebumps. That’s why the teachers are wrong…you don’t have to be smart to succeed. Music does have a future.”

“Thank you Kibum…You’re seriously the best. I’d give you a hug right now but it’d be a bit awkward over the table and we can’t risk knocking over your heavenly beverage. But yeah…thank you.” spoke Jonghyun, tears no longer threatening to fall and instead a large smile spread across his face.

Kibum laughed, nodding in agreement as he pulled his drink closer to him in mock protectiveness. “You made the mood so dull, Jjong…let’s play 20 questions.”

“Huh? Why all of a sudden?” questioned Jonghyun in shock, lifting his cup up to take a large sip now that the coffee wasn’t so hot.

“Don’t act so surprised, it’s just to get to know each other better. Do you wanna ask first?”

Jonghyun bit his lip in thought for a few seconds, before a large grin grew on his face and an excited look masked his features. “Okay. We have to start easy, so first up: what’s your favourite hobby?”

“Favourite hobby? Well um, don’t judge me, but I like to dance.” replied Kibum, a slight hue reddening his cheeks.

“Dance?! Show me!”

Kibum sputtered, looking at Jonghyun incredulously. “Show you? No way! We are in the middle of a café, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Well yeah, I meant later.” argued Jonghyun, a small blush growing on his cheeks.

Kibum sighed in defeat. “Okay, I will if you write another song by Sunday.” agreed the younger begrudgingly, smirking smugly at the deadpan look on Jonghyun’s face.

Jonghyun’s expressionless face lightened up slightly, and he let out an amused chortle whilst shaking his head in disbelief. “You are seriously evil.”

“Thank you,” spoke Kibum sarcastically. “Evilness happens to be one of my fortes.”

Jonghyun chuckled heartily, taking one last gulp of his coffee before looking straight into Kibum’s eyes – a hint of amusement within his gaze. “Ask me now…just don’t be too evil.”

“I can’t promise anything,” laughed Kibum, bringing his fingers up to rest on his chin in thought. “Okay…Do you live alone?”

“Wow Kibum, I didn’t know you were a stalker.” grinned the older male mischievously.

“Shut up dinosaur. Answer the question.”

Jonghyun’s jaw dropped in mock offence, placing his hands over his chest as though he had been wounded. “Dinosaur? That was harsh, Kibum. And for your information, I live with my mother and sister, so I don’t live alone.”

Kibum giggled cheekily and took a large sip through his straw, cheek bones protruding cutely as he looked at Jonghyun with an innocent façade. “That’s so cute! What’s your sister’s name?”

“Nuh uh! It’s my turn to ask, ‘Bum.” argued Jonghyun, shaking his head.

“Ugh, whatever dino Jjong.” replied Kibum, rolling his eyes playfully.

“I’m not a dinosaur!”

“No, but you look like one.”

“You are very rude…and here I thought you were a sweet boy,” joked Jonghyun. “Anyway, do you like school?”

Kibum smirked cutely, if smirking cutely is even possible, and raised a questioning eyebrow in Jonghyun’s direction. “What a waste of a question, nobody likes school!”

“Well yeah, but then why go to uni?” questioned Jonghyun curiously, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Nope, my turn. Be patient, Jjong,” scolded Kibum with a tut, wagging his finger sassily at the older boy.

“Ah, you’re such a party pooper,” sighed Jonghyun with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest much like a child.

Kibum laughed loudly at the cute display, merely shrugging his shoulders in response. “Every party needs one.”

In response Jonghyun merely laughed, and all of a sudden, much to Kibum’s surprise, he began to sing. Not a beautiful ballad, nor an upbeat pop song, but a rather stupid song that had Kibum laughing even louder than before.

“Every party needs a pooper, that’s why they invited you! Party pooper— Party Pooper—“

“Stop, Jjong! You’re so embarrassing!” scolded Kibum in laughter, slapping the singer’s arm gently as his face flushed crimson.

“Aish Kibum…You’re seriously too cute.”

Kibum’s cheeks reddened slightly, but instead of replying to Jonghyun’s compliment he opted to change the topic and continue with his question. “That sister question isn’t really important because you’ll probably tell me anyways, so let’s go with the more juicy stuff: Who’s on your mind when you write your songs?”

Jonghyun made an ‘o’ shaped face, excited at the prospect of more scandalous questions. “Despite the fact that this is indeed a good question, I actually don’t think of anyone to be honest. I mean…I think of my dream partner in my head, but there isn’t actually someone that I know personally who inspires my songs. If that makes sense…”

Kibum nodded in understanding, pouting nonetheless. “Damn, I was hoping for some good goss…but yeah, I getcha. Just imagine, if your songs are this good now, imagine what they’ll be like when you fall in love!”

“I know right! To be honest, it probably won’t be too long from now.” nodded Jonghyun, biting his lip at the hidden meaning behind his words.

It was true - he had seen it a few days back when he was singing after he’d met Kibum. There was definitely a positive change in his singing, and Kibum was unknowingly evoking it.

“Huh? You’ve met someone?!” exclaimed Kibum, and Jonghyun didn’t miss the slight disappointment in his voice. Interesting.

Jonghyun licked his lips and avoided eye contact, afraid he’d give too much away if he looked Kibum in the eyes. He could only imagine Kibum’s reaction if the younger boy found out he fancied him after only a few days. He’d be disgusted!

“Well kinda…not really. They won’t like me back so, it’s alright.”

“Oh.”

“Well anyway!” spoke Jonghyun, cutting through the thick silence like a knife in attempt to change the subject. “My turn! Kibum, why do you hate school so much? And honest answers please!”

Kibum blinked a few times in surprise. He wasn’t expecting this question…why was Jonghyun so eager to know? The younger male wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Jonghyun the full story, but he had asked for honest answers. Kibum exhaled loudly and made his decision.

“Truth to be told, I don’t have many friends. I mean, I do now…Two guys have been hanging out with me recently but before that…I just used to sit alone a whole lot. I do have some friends, but she doesn’t hang out with me at lunch so I just get a little lonely, y’know?”

A look of sympathy came over Jonghyun’s face, and Kibum awkwardly diverted his gaze to avoid the pity.

“But…you seem so out there! Why wouldn’t people wanna hang with someone as cool as you?” asked Jonghyun curiously, a gentler tone appearing in his voice as he spoke to the younger.

“Just rumours I guess.” shrugged Kibum casually, hoping to God that Jonghyun would let the topic drop. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about his depressing school life and the fact that half the student body thought he was gay. He didn’t want Jonghyun to know that.

“What about…?” the older prompted lightly, not wanting to spark a cry fest within Kibum whilst they were in the middle of a café.

“Look you’ve had your question, just drop it. Okay?!” snapped Kibum, surprising Jonghyun greatly who shut his mouth with haste.

“S-Sorry Kibum…Do you wanna ask now?” he offered awkwardly, curiosity still nipping at the back of his mind as he promised himself he’d figure it out later.

Kibum immediately felt guilty for snapping at the older boy, but couldn’t bring it within himself to apologize. “Nah, I don’t really want to play 20 questions anymore…” he muttered.

“That’s alright, it was getting a little boring anyway! Besides, I have a really good idea…there’s a beautiful park across from here we could visit and usually there’s an ice cream truck there too!” spoke Jonghyun excitedly, and Kibum was once again reminded of how immature the older could be despite their age difference.

“More cold food?! Do they sell other stuff?” questioned Kibum hopefully, only just having finished his Frappuccino and still feeling full and chilly from the chocolatey drink.

“Probably fairy floss? Maybe donuts, but who knows?” shrugged Jonghyun, sticking out his lower lip in hopes of getting Kibum to agree.

Kibum sighed in resignation, a small grin etching itself onto his face as he stood up from his chair and gestured for Jonghyun to follow suit. “Come on then, dino.”

Jonghyun practically cheered aloud before standing up with enthusiasm to lead the way to the park. “Bye Luna!” he exclaimed in farewell, Kibum having to quicken his footsteps to keep in stride with the excited singer.

They made their way out the door, and fell into a nice pace as they began the short trek to the park across the road. Kibum had noticed it after he’d gotten out of Jonghyun’s car, but he hadn’t paid attention to actually how beautiful it was. The edges of the park were covered with trees upon trees; cherry blossom trees, maple trees, oak trees, all types of trees!  And from where he was now, Kibum could see a water fountain in the middle of the luscious green grass, a tranquil and relaxing sound made by the water as it cascaded down into the pond below.

“This is really nice!” he spoke, his awe at the current sight replacing his prior sullen mood.

Jonghyun turned his head to look at Kibum, the younger boy’s hair flying backwards as the wind blew into his face softly. He couldn’t describe it…Despite the fact that this was his second time seeing the boy in person, he had feelings for the boy that he had never had for anyone else in his life. Sure, he had past girlfriends…but they sure had never made him feel like this. Then again, they weren’t as pretty as Kibum either.

“It is really nice, isn’t it?” Jonghyun responded softly, eyes not leaving Kibum’s perfect face as the younger boy took in the beautiful sight before him.

Jonghyun didn’t know why he did it. He really shouldn’t have. But before he knew it, his hand was acting of his own accord and brushing against Kibum’s gently. Kibum’s eyes widened drastically as he felt the older boy’s hand brush against his own, heart practically stopping in his chest as the gate of butterflies was opened once again.

Was Jonghyun seriously trying to hold his hand? ‘No…It must have been by accident’. Kibum stole a quick glance down to look, biting his lip nervously as he noticed that Jonghyun’s hand hadn’t moved back an inch. Moving his gaze up the elder’s arm, Kibum felt his cheeks heat up profusely as he realised that Jonghyun was also looking down at their hands. The singer looked up at Kibum with an unidentifiable look upon his face, before his lips tilted slightly at the edges in what Kibum thought was the cutest smile he had ever seen.

“Kibum-ah…my hand is cold. Friends these days hold hands, right?” he spoke quietly, and Kibum wasn’t sure whether Jonghyun was joking or not.

Was this some type of set up? After all, Jonghyun only finished school a few years back so he wouldn’t be that oblivious to what the social standard was.

“Ah…I don’t know. Maybe?” replied Kibum awkwardly, swallowing a lump in his throat as Jonghyun stared at him intently.

Jonghyun nodded slightly in an attempt to convince himself that it was true. “N-neh…I think I saw some school kids doing it recently.”

Kibum bit his lip even harder, nerves crawling up his spine as Jonghyun spoke.  “Really?” he choked out.

Jonghyun smiled widely, all of a sudden entwining their fingers softly and diverting his gaze. “Really.”

Kibum thought he would die right then and there, tingles running through his body at the small touch. A cute, reserved smile made its way onto his face, taking notice of the fact that their hands fit perfectly together.

[hospicelsorg]

Not Getting Replies to Your Health Issues

To Those Who Still Do not Have All the Answers for Their Health Issues

chronic disease getting a diagnosis.

Some may think this sounds…odd. Why would a diagnosis be considered a good thing? How is receiving a diagnosis at all relieving? Isn’t it terrible to know you get a incurable disorder?

No , and yes at precisely the same time.

Let me clarify: years pass from feeling ill with doctors appointments, blood work with no replies and negative effects. It becomes exhausting. Trying and linking. Viewing this doctor and physician. Taking supplements or different medications. Obtaining test after test done. And still, despite all these efforts and time attempting to work out this puzzle, you feel as though you are no closer to replies as possible when you began your quest.

Thus when a physician comes together that finds that this puzzle piece that is missing, it’s a huge relief. It feels as though a giant weight has been raised. Since, yes, you have a chronic illness which waxes and wanes over time, however, at least you know what is wrong. At least it’s possible to take care of the disease to assist your symptoms. At least now you can have that peace of mind knowing that you are not “crazy” or making the whole thing up! Which is a huge fear of mine.

Nonetheless, it’s never that easy. Once 1 doctor figures out it, another physician thinks they have the responses and the other physician isn’t right. The doctors suspect you have that this disease, but the results are back negative. You feel as though you are back to square one.

I felt a huge relief. The unknown of those six months I waited in my muscle contractions were weighing me every instant of every day. Until that day once I discovered the phrases…”We all know why you’re feeling like this, and we can treat it so you begin to feel better.” It was music to my ears! I had a concrete answer and all I went through.

If the treatment methods suggested don’t work, but what happens? You obtain another opinion. What occurs when this opinion questions that the doctor’s diagnosis? OK, you undergo their evaluations. What happens if outcomes conflict, and now, you are no longer positive if the major diagnosis you’ve had for a year is the right one? When the doctors disagree, what happens? What now?

It is a dreadful feeling. It is a dreadful feeling to be to be in the unknown. Particularly after you think you have all the replies! And if you are in this circumstance, I am quite sorry. I know how awful it feels. But do take some comfort in the fact that you are not alone in this stage. In actuality, I think it is common for chronic illness musicians to undergo this during some point of their journey.

This is where we must practice patience. We need to practice approval. We know, and need to focus on being at the here and now all replies come in good time, and at the right time. We’re keen to have all the replies. We’re tired of combating with our health daily and fighting this battle. But if we keep holding on, our responses will come.

Do not stop trying. We can get through this. We can overcome this. Do not underestimate the ability of this disease community; it’s given me strength and hope once I needed it the most. And my expectation for each of you reading this is that as it did me , community can offer you with that same guarantee and fortitude.

We would like to hear your own story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Thinkstock photo via llhedgehogll.

Practice:

Surviving on Cornstarch: My Life With Glycogen Storage Disease

once in approximately every 100,000 births. This disease is hereditary and due to both the mother and father passing along this mutated gene. They don’t have to have  this disorder. When they were to get a child, there’s a person in four chance the   child will have the disease.

The major use of a individual’s liver is to make and store gas from the carbs they consume, such as rice and potatoes. Travels were produced by some of the glucose into the bloodstream and the remainder into the body where it’s used for energy.

The liver of a person with GSD type 1 doesn’t execute this function. We’re overlooking the receptor that allows this process to take place.

The deficiency  impairs the ability of the liver to produce glucose that is free from glycogen. Since these are both main metabolic processes where the liver provides glucose to the rest of the body during fasting, it causes severe and results in a rise of glycogen in the liver or kidneys leading to enlargement of both.

Frequent feedings of other or cornstarch carbs is the most important treatment. I must take daily to 80 grams of cornflour. I’ve not ever had a complete night’s sleep. Cornstarch contains the maximum amount of carbs (one tablespoon contains nine grams of carbs) and when taken raw it’s difficult for your body to digest, therefore giving me slow discharges of energy.

I go through approximately eight boxes of cornflour weekly and above my life time I’ve consumed roughly 1328 kilograms (~2928 lbs) of this. It is estimated to be about 17 bathtubs to visualize this! How can anyone take this illness seriously when our medicine is a gravy thickener?

The danger of not accepting cornstarch is hypoglycemia. It is the one which is quite damaging and the central issue. Any seizure can lead to severe brain damage or , even worse, death. Possessing chronic low blood sugar may allow you to  create tumors in your liver called adenomas, generally getting cancerous if not addressed fast enough.

Having GSD comes with other problems like growth failure, joint problems (gout), kidney problems, pancreatitis, bowel problems, a higher disease risk and blood clotting problems.

Without treatment, growth failure is typical due to chronically low glucose levels. Moderate malabsorption can be caused by involvement. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease at age 16 due to battle and the with  each the above too.

Neutropenia is a manifestation of the disorder. I have a very low white blood cell count and even though I’m on daily injections to boost my immune system that I still pick up infections and viruses easy. Without sufficient metabolic treatment, patients with GSD type 1 have not made it into maturity, and up till 1971 this disorder was completely deadly.

People who live can be stunted in growth and delayed in puberty because of low glucose levels.

I am now on my hospital admission. I’ve been living here in the clinic for 3 months and I am currently awaiting a liver to save my life.

We need to increase financing and awareness!

Doctors in college don’t get educated about GSD; it receives a mention in death, in the best. Here in New Zealand nothing has been released by any one about the illness and I wish to change that! I wish to raise money to assist their teams and doctors.

I am hoping to write and publish a novel on living with GSD. Every little bit helps. If I could walk right into a hospital and also have the physician or nurse already be aware of my illness, it would blow me away.

I would not wish this illness.

As it’s made me who I am now however I would not alter a thing.

We would like to hear your own story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Confronting My Dystonia ‘Face-to-Face’ in Talk Therapy

here.

Thinkstock photo via KatarzynaBialasiewicz.

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The Mental and Emotional Side Effects of Bipolar Disorder

chronic illness isalso, obviously, the bodily aspect and what effect these kinds of illnesses have on our mobility and the other various bodily symptoms that include the territory. However, what most people today forget about is that the mental component of disease that is chronic. Yes, the bodily effects are tough, but occasionally you might be amazed to know that the mental effects may be equally as bad, if not worse. On the website, I talk about this aspect of sickness and provide some tips to help make it manageable, now!

Chronic illness is not just about the physical hardships that a person can encounter, but also the mental and psychological strains of them too. Actually, research indicates that is a great deal more prevalent in those fighting  with chronic/serious diseases than the general population.

Chronic illness’ unpredictability makes it difficult to live with. Why? Since you don’t know when you might need to change/cancel your plans — whether it be going out with some friends, completing that to-do list or perhaps just a chill day in  the home with your spouse. When you’re always up and down, capable and unable to accomplish things, it can be tough to be pleased all the time. I mean, in case youneed to cancel out something from your control and’re actually excited about some plans, you’d be pretty miffed too, wouldn’t you? It makes it all the worse, when this is a regular phenomenon. The disappointed, the guilt of having to inform friends/partner/family you can not make it, the annoyance this happened for the fourth time in a row… It all adds up.

Chronic illness is often accompanied by changes in life and at times it may even alter the independence of the individual. This can create when you’re heading from the home. Constant queries ensue. Today, can I get a seat on the train, or will I must stand for an hour? How active is it possible to be? Will I have pushed and pushed? How long am I will have the ability to walk around before I burn out? You have the picture. The planning that has to enter everything when you have a serious health condition becomes frustrating and will suck the fun.

If pain is involved by the health condition of one, and they live with a constant pain level daily, it can definitely take its toll. Let us have a flu or cold for instance, since most folks encounter these on a frequent basis (you’re very fortunate if you don’t). Most individuals are miserable the whole time they’re experiencing the symptoms due to the fact that they prevent them from doing what that they love and generally just beats down you… Could you imagine living with a cold or flu daily?

Most importantly, you feel a particular reduction of also the capability to do and also the person that you was. Obviously, doing makes us more happy, but then it makes us sad, since they take too much from it if you can not do them.

So, how do you attempt to overcome these?

Partake in a self-care pattern — it’s something I will post about to come and you will discover some tips on this here.

Discover hobbies you can take part in and love — illustrations include crafts, reading, photographs or even watching movies you love.

Communities — there are lots of online communities, whether it be generally on Twitter, Facebook or internet. The amount of support you’ll be able to gain from these is massive and everyone there understands.

Just conduct you — don’t fret about what other men and women say. Should they love you enough, then they will know!

Which are your hobbies? Let me know in the comments and, naturally, don’t forget to talk about!

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With Bipolar Infection, My Life Isn’t as Simple as It May Seem

here.

Thinkstock photo via LittleBee80.

The Ability Words Could Have in Encouraging Us Through Our Struggles

here.

Thinkstock photo via monkeybusinessimages.

from Health http://www.hospicels.org/not-getting-replies-to-your-health-issues/

[fukette]

Other Things To Boycott Instead Of Netflix's Dear White People.

In this modern-day, digitized province of unsolicited dick pics and Trump sponsored displays of nationally demoralizing idiocy that we call the Internet, it's easy for some things to get lost in the melee. For example, I recently just got around to watching BET's New Edition biopic and gluten-free goddamn. I had always assumed that the group was just famous for giving Black America Bobby Brown, providing me a reason to stand in the wind covered baby oiled-chest to toe in silk pajamas with the shirt unbuttoned while singing Can You Stand The Rain, and providing the soundtrack to your mother's first disappointing sexual experience. But apparently shit was more real than Atlanta housewives when the sangria and cocaine run out when (SPOILER ALERT) Bobby Brown made people want to punch him and everyone went broke.

But, I digress.

Syd The Kid, of The Internet fame, recently released her solo album that is so imbued with a studiously crafted yet well-balanced atmosphere and unabashed charisma that I've relegated listens only to instances in which I need to supplement my confidence. Like, say, the next time I eat $8 pork shoulder enchiladas at Taqueria Del Sol, blow up the toilet stall like ISIS trying to ask Al Qaeda to prom, and then exit said bathroom by calmly walking past the line of waiting people not caring that they're all within the Poop Waft Danger Zone, but with all the chill and self-assuredness of Billy Dee Williams as he steals your girl the moment you step away to grab her a pineapple Bacardi and Coke.

Lastly, I just found out that we'll soon be able to listen to Prince on platforms other than the 'Participation Award' of streaming servoces, Tidal. Does this mean that I'll soon be able to put on all the car seat concerts I want while stuck in gridlock traffic on I-85? Gifting any passerby's that gawk at my pitch-perfect rendition of When Doves Cry with an unblinking, 'no CVS brand lube necessary' eye-fuck? I dunno. Maybe. Catch me on the interstate at around 5:30pm sometime and we'll find out.

Hmm, what else? Oh yeah!

Every motherfucker on the Internet missing a chromosome, but still able to access a 4Chan message board are wildin dafuq out over a 30-second teaser clip of Netflix's Dear White People.

Fuck it, maybe there's more to it than what the visuals, monologue, and every other aspect of the teaser leads me to believe there is. Perhaps I'm simply just not perceptive enough to discern the subtextual rallying cries of White Genocide® present in the clip who's message, I believe, can best be summed up with the statement "White People Who Wear Blackface: What The Fuck,Man!?!" Granted, I am genetically predispositioned to several cognitive impairing disabilities plus I'm the only person I know that genuinely enjoys eating Tapioca pudding so, it goes without saying, that my critical thinking skills are more fucked than the bathroom glory holes at a Young Republicans Retreat. That being said, the furor over a simple show would have you think that minorities are instituting outlandish policies by which White People should have to abide by under threat of White Genocide®. No one in their right mind would advocate legislation that stipulates that White People should have to compete in underground bare-knuckle boxing matches in order to qualify for Google Fiber. No person of color would mandate that White People should be taxed for every documented instance of them saying the words 'non-frap soy decaf' while placing a coffee order. It would be ludicrous to propose that anyone in possession of a playlist that features Father John Misty, The Chainsmokers, and Meghan Trainor be placed on a no-fly list and have their family members surveilled indefinitely. So maybe being quick to label a show that no one has seen and who's message you are clearly misinterpreting as hate speech against whites could be seen as deceitful at best and SO not Raven at worst.

Although, if it's just a matter of periodically feeding the beast with a steady diet of ultimately futile yet amusingly preoccupying outrage then I will indeed bid on that glass menagerie of hand-blown fuckery by providing some outrages of my own. Be sure to let me know know how trend-worthy these are because if none of them garner a significant amount of retweets from the alt-right community then, what, I'm just some reactionary fuckwit anonymously insulting strangers who disagree with me even though my own sensibilities can be best described as 'softer than Moroccan baby shit'?

How dare you even imply such a thing?

Boycott against niggas that feel comfortable commenting on the Instagram photos of women they've never met with some deeply personal shit that only serves to make people uncomfortable as fuck. (i.e. 'Glad you had fun at PCB this weekend:) BTW, your smile is just as beautiful as your mother's. Remember? You posted a pic of her 36 weeks ago. Also, I see in the background that your door is unlocked. Is that like an everyday thing or just a mulligan for today?)

Boycott against people who fail to recognize the superiority inherent in pizzas topped with pineapple and ham. I'm not saying we should base an entire eugenics program on this one trait, but I'm not NOT saying it either. You feel me?

Boycott against whoever thinks it's acceptable to use the enlarged font on their Facebook status to announce anything other than an immediate death in the family, a growing concern that you may have been shot, and a spoiler-free reaction to the newest episode of The Magicians. (It's an amazing show. Fight me.)

Boycott against push-up bras. Despite however narrow-minded and ignorantly misogynistic it sounds, THEY. ARE. LIES. Untruths coupled with ergonomic design. A 67% cotton-based fiction of mammories. Structurally sound falsehoods capable of making a man inattentively rear end the Toyota Camry in front of him thereby making him late for work and therefore obligated to listen to his sentient semen latte of a manager go on about the importance of timeliness. I swear to White Jesus, if I have to sit through just ONE more of those lectures, I'm not exactly sure of what I'll do, but I'm confident in saying that it will be a day annually commemorated both for its horror and the revelation that you indeed can kill someone just by pelting them with two day old cranberry scones.

Boycott against whatever sadist placed the volume button perilously close to the 'share' button on porn sites. I want to quiet my shame, not broadcast it like the goddamn bat signal. What person outside of Charlie Sheen's Barebacked Fuck Palace is jerking it, stops, then thinks to themselves "Wow, I sure would like to share this video of a 3-legged Bosnian GILF and the Verizon Amphitheatre full of men just waiting for their turn to penetrate her with all of my closest friends, family, and casual acquaintances." Do you want to be uninvited from future backyard BBQs and Secret Santa gift exchanges? Because that's how you get uninvited from future backyard BBQs and Secret Santa gift exchanges.

Pokemon GO. The era has since passed. The window has closed and shall forever remain closed. If your family still gathers around the fireplace Sunday evening for pleasant conversation and familial warmth then, with all due respect, fuck you. To be specific, fuck your mother. And, while we're at it, fuck your ain't shit grandmother, fuck Lil' Jessica and her bullshit Crohn's Disease, and DEFINITELY fuck Grandpa Abraham. Who just last week channeled his inner Amos and Andy by calling his waiter at IHOP 'Colored George' even though his waiter's name was actually Jackson and, judging by the fact that Abraham's Rooty Tooty Fresh 'N Fruity Pancakes had some Rooty Tooty colored balls rubbed on it like shea butter, Jackson was none too pleased about it..

Boycott against trial periods for WinZip. How come I'm the only nigga in all of human existence to be stiff-armed for the premium version at the MOMENT I try to unzip the collected Ebooks of Michael Crichton? I told them, this is what will happen when Trump gets into office, but nobody listens to me.

Boycott extra pulp, homestyle orange juice. Because it burns like chlamydia-brand battery acid if you have cavities.

[janefuckindoe]

Can I get all my visually impaired mother fuckers around for a second!!!

SOOO I have albinism and my eye muscles are not strong enough to foccous on things this is called nastagmus. I also have astigmatism AND I’m near sited and far sited. To say the least I’m blind as fuck. As you may have suspected this means I can’t drive. Now I am very lucky because despite my plethora of ailments I can see well enough that I don’t need a cane and I’m using a normal phone right now without voice over or anything. HOWEVER anyone who CANT drive (and I mean can’t there is a difference between lacking the physical ability to preform the task and not wanting to (and I am counting anxiety as not wanting to even tho I do know that anxiety isn’t like something people just choose to do or have trust me I have that too)) will tell you not being able to drive really makes it feel as though you lack independence, especially when you live in an area that’s basically anything but a city (which I do). SO the point of all this exposition is that I am 21 and have stunted my own life significantly because I’m harping on the fact that I can’t drive it makes me feel like I want to throw my hands up and say fuck it I can’t do it anyway. I know that is a bad attitude to have but I can’t help it and all the people in my life always say “it’s not that big of a deal”, “lots of people can’t drive” and “you can just move to a city when you’re older” (said that to me at 18...like I kind of need it now but k) and TODAY my mom is about an hour away visiting my brother with my other brother and she wanted me and my boyfriend to pick them up and I was like work Ight but we have plans today so it’ll be later. And she’s all frustrated because she doesn’t have a ride at exactly the time she wants it in exactly the vehicle she wants it in and I’m just here like...........every time I need a ride anywhere I have to be considerate of everyone else’s schedules to the point where when I was in college I spent an entire 12 hours on campus every Monday - Thursday when I only had 4 classes because I had to get dropped off at like 6 am and couldn’t get a ride home until about 6 pm, but never did you hear me complain to any of my rides about how early or late I had to get picked up or dropped off because I was just greatful to have a fucking ride. Moral of the rant I guess is I know I fuck myself feeling sorry for myself and stuff but people who can drive really take it for granted and it drives me fucking crazy because the only person who could even kind of understand where I’m coming from is my little brother because he has the same ailments as me but he just is not as salty about it which is great but leaves me feeling really lonely Rant over I guess