#but also it was just one of those days when the other person is tired or not feeling it and i'm a burden

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Fading with the Leaves: 1/2

‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ ‎ ‎Ellie Williams x Fem! Reader‎ ‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

݁ ˖ ��WARNING: Sensitive content. Mentions of grief, PTSD, violence, etc.

݁ ˖ ◜Word count: 4k

݁ ˖ ◜Description: After Ellie loses Joel, everything changes. Her touch fades from your body, replaced with a bitter shell of who once loved you. There is no promise that she will ever return, and you have to learn to give up, though that's easier said than done.

You followed her everywhere she went like blood trailing behind a body, and somehow also like a blessing that's inevitable to humanity, a much needed saving.

You would someday save her.

Ellie constantly felt the flatbacks hit. All of the moments she once took for granted with Joel and now all of those memories felt as if they were for nothing; she was once factually content with her life. The loss and the trauma that she had faced before Joel came into her life became nothing but a scab when she moved to Jackson.

From top to bottom, Ellie was a smart girl. She knew how to kill, how to survive, and how to get herself out of dangerous situations in creative ways. She was raised into violence and grew into a complicated adult. One thing they don't tell you about living in a hellish world like hers is that the flustered, awkward feelings that arise from a sweet face aren't something any knife or round of ammo can prevent.

You were always in her vicinity and at first, she felt as if she were crazy. This beautiful, sweet girl wanted to talk to her? She just couldn't believe it. As time went on, you'd naturally grow on her like the prettiest species of vines that she didn't think to ignore, unlike the verdure that sprouted on the abandoned bricks of the old world.

The blush in your cheeks, those soft smiles passed around town like your own personal calling card, and the scent of cheap strawberry lotion following you like a cloud only haunted her mind. She felt all of this before Joe's death happened. Unfortunately, she knew how much she loved you much before that, and it would be like an everlasting fear that even if she pushed you to the other side of the world, the salty taste of your skin would be engraved into her mind and it made her sick to her stomach in a way that made bile sound appetizing.

Two happy years of having you, or so she thought.

You had been dating for two long years, and it wasn't like some perfect relationship anyone could say was flawless. Ellie only found that to make you more lovely to her poor heart. She couldn't comprehend how someone could have flaws and her own body indulge in those like she was ravaged from thirst and needed you in every way, shape, and form. She needed your sensitivity, your lack of common sense in pressuring situations, and your clinginess. And somehow, your response to the behavior only put her obsession into a magnifying glass.

Ellie's constant flashbacks will never just be of Joel, as bad as those are. No, it's a mix of yearning and grief.

She'll remember the way your lips parted late into the night when she'd place her warm fingertip to your bottom lip, pressing down and sliding the flesh against your tongue in a way that made her belly clench with an undeniable need to take every bit of your soul away and keep it for herself. Even now, mentally separated from you in her current state of life, she would never get tired of you. You were far too vast, like an ocean and she could not bear to be handed a life jacket.

Being so in love can be such a beautiful blessing. Before Joel, she often returned home from her hunting trips to your presence and while days were undeniably tough, you were always a soothing balm that coated her soul twice-over.

Being in love can also make you want to tear apart the world brick by brick, branch by branch.

Ellie couldn't afford to love after Joel died. She swore it off. There was no immediate shut-down in which she broke up with you and isolated herself. It was more like a slow withdrawal from the life she once felt even an ounce of comfort from. She stopped eating your home-made meals and opted to a beer to tide her. Slowly, it became the stronger liquids. Nights that used to be spent well-rested curled up against you turned into late-night hunting trips that she came back from and collapsed onto the cold couch, regardless of you waiting for her in bed.

Ellie knew her behavior was unfair, and you deserved the fucking world, if not a loving partner. But she couldn't be that for you. You were just so beautiful and sweet, she hated imagining you in place of Joel or beside him, a grave complete with fast-fading flowers and that name she loved to say engraved into the stone. Imagining you bitten was even worse. She wanted to keep you all to herself, lock you inside the home just to know you'll always live. But when she was paranoid with thoughts of illness. There was no key to unlocking the doors of death as it hit all mortals. There was only acceptance, and that was a feeling unplaced in her life after such wretched, unfair acts had caused her to lose the one person who willingly raised her into a semi-okay human being.

There was no proper apology she could give you for the snappy words. There was no hug that followed, and no softness in her gaze when her feelings would implode onto you, coating your sensitive feelings with her own pain; Ellie began to hate herself, and yet the cycle was never going to end, it seemed.

-

You always loved Ellie with every ounce of heart you had, which was a lot. You weren't the angel she made you out to be. You only wanted to feel loved when you took a chance into giving her your heart.

But by God, you fell face-first into the heap of mess named Ellie.

She haunted you just as you did her; her auburn locks that so messily beautiful, even the inevitable loose strands were like pieces of perfection carved into one singular person. Her face was molded by emotions you always struggled to read and yet fantasized about her informing you of, and her skin was tainted with freckles that ate away at the apples of her cheeks. By any means was she flawless, either. Enough said of the endless list that made you fall for her so strongly.

Living with her was once a treasure you thought was too good to be true, like some conditions came with it. It wasn't until after everything happened that the reality of the harsh world hit you and refused to make Ellie see how much you wanted to be there for her.

Most people would believe comforting someone in a time of loss would be the right thing to do. You felt this natural instinct watching the light fade from Ellie's face the day after Joel's soul left the Earth. You'd never wanted to save her so badly from her own obsession with intense loss, yet she didn't even give you the chance to. Stuck was the love that you wanted to feel her release onto you, like a key voluntarily jammed in a lock. You watched her destructive behaviors and your tears were nightly shed. You wanted to feel her love again, and to be reminded that she still had those obsessive needs entailing your presence, but the reassurance never came. The nights got longer and the bed, cold.

-

The cold winter breeze blew over the Wyoming farm. Grass was mainly dead, frigid flakes of snow beginning to coat the ground. The sheep were all cozy in the barn that you herded them into. These past few months, you had a habit of doing most of the work around the farm and the house. It was a necessary habit, because Ellie wasn't in any condition to do the work; she was either drunk, asleep, silent, or out hunting. However, even the contributions made in the form of game were lacking. Most days, it was small rabbits or squirrels. You could tell she was beating herself up over that too, behind the lack-luster eyes.

Your hands reached over for the pie dough, weaving through threads of the material. Your hands always seemed to twitch slightly these days, but it was usually cold in the house, making for a reasonable explanation. More than anything, you wanted to pretend all was well.

Baking was always something you loved to do when things got tough. Before you even knew Ellie, you'd spend your time frosting cupcakes or shoveling a tray of brownie batter into the oven. Now, you were just reminded of how many times Ellie had come into the kitchen to steal one of your creations and kiss your cheek. You longed for the way it was so easy with her at one point in your lives.

Still, you placed the pie into the oven and waited. You waited with the silence, pacing around restlessly. Ellie was in the bedroom, probably buried under the blankets, but not asleep. You wanted to give her something to come out for.

30 minutes later, the timer went off. No sign of Ellie. You sighed and with mitts, took the apple lie out. It had the scent of cinnamon tainting it, an aroma that used to be Ellie's favorite. Still, you didn't want to give up. You carefully placed the pie onto the counter and slowly headed for the bedroom, opening the door as quietly as possible.

"Ellie?" You called out, making sure to be gentle with your tone. Anything could set her off, and even a frown was something you wanted to avoid.

Ellie muttered out a soft respond, mostly incomprehensible.

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "I made your favorite pie. You want a slice?"

"Don't feel like getting up," she mumbled.

You frowned slightly at that, but something in you wanted to still push. Gently push. "You can have a slice in bed, I'll bring you-"

You were cut off.

"Just go, okay? I don't want the damn pie."

Followed by a soft sigh from underneath the blankets, and a bit of shuffling.

"I'm sorry..just go, please. Put the leftovers in the fridge or whatever."

Your heart sank a bit, and you hated getting snapped at. Still, you loved her. Sometimes, you endured some fucked up things for love.

You closed the door behind you.

-

Winter season was one of your least favorites of the seasonal climates. Summer was much nicer, you thought. Beautiful rays of sunshine that painted the grass with greenery. Hours spent in the creek a mile from the farmhouse turned into your eyes flickering down into the icy surface, thoughts muddled with Ellie. You hoped she would break soon.

Today, you woke up and went on with your usual morning routine. You made breakfast, and you made sure to leave leftovers in the fridge for Ellie, even though she had already left for another hunt, without a word, of course. You spent the first quarter of the day doing chores and enduring the cold to take care of the livestock. Once done, you felt restless. You wanted to do something, but you didn't know what. Life felt so boring these days, and you wanted to break away from the routine you and Ellie found yourselves in. So you decided to do something special in hopes she'd appreciate you.

-

When Ellie came home from her hunting trip, she opened the door and was floored.

The kitchen table had centralized candles, warm soft glow emitting and adding light to the rather dim room. It was a heat that used to exist between the two of you and lingered like a smoke filling a car, a car Ellie intended to escape from. There was a new cloth laid out, and on top of it were two glasses of red wine and two plates of spaghetti, truly one of Ellie's favorite meals, or was one of her favorites. However, she lastly noticed you standing beside it all with a nervous but hopeful upturn in your lips.

You looked fucking gorgeous.

Ellie always admired your style, even back in Jackson. It was clear that you sometimes wandered off during patrol in search of some pieces to bring back to your closet. She used to find it extremely endearing, teasing you over some claw clip in your hair or a new skirt you found in an abandoned home's master bedroom.

Now, standing in front of her, your hair was up and loose strands fell like a stream from a waterfall, all chaotic and natural but there was much intent behind it. Your lips were an exaggerated rosy pink, and they were slight parted like two delicate, plush petals. They looked like the petals of a pretty tulip picked straight from a meadow, only being the most perfect flower of all. If she had seen you months ago, she would've had the cosmetic substance coating your lips smudged over your pretty face. Now, she could only brush past it as her eyes flickered down to the satin dress hugging your body in ways she'd only seen when you were naked.

"I'm not doing this with you," She stated, trying to sound monotonous but ultimately failing, "I can't do this tonight."

"Ellie, sit down. Just eat with me, please." You gestured to the chairs, vulnerability still written all over your pretty face and signed on your trembling lips.

"I'm not hungry."

"You know that's not true. You skipped breakfast this morning and probably lunch." You knew you were pushing it, but you were at your limit with the way things were going. You knew she was struggling, that no dinner could heal her, but you still wanted to at least make a start.

That's when she doubled down.

"Because I'm not fucking hungry. I'm going to watch tv now." She walked right past the table and when you reached out to grab her, your grip a bit too clingy. She turned around, and the irritation that used to be subtle boiled over.

It used to be subtle, at least. There were always recent moments in which her agitated moods doubled into more, something that bordered the anger that she contained towards Joel's killers. Now, she can't help it; it leaks out through her voice, the tone that you've now grown to hate. You wonder how much you can stand, but she'll be sure to show you.

Her hands gripped at the kitchen table, pushing it away and sending the glasses of wine to be shattered into glass shards spread all over the tiled floor; a quite accurate representation of what seemed to be happening inside of you at the moment. The plates hit the ground as well, and there was a mess that joined the red liquid staining the floor you mopped hours ago.

Everything was a fucking mess.

You stared at her in silence. Ellie stared back, but not meeting your eyes. She wasn't making a move to leave you alone in the kitchen, though, as if she wanted to see your reaction. She wanted to see if you'd given up on her so she wouldn't have to worry about you leaving her like Joel did.

"Why'd you do that?" You spoke, and you sounded so hurt, so done. It sent a pain through Ellie's chest; she had never witnessed such hopelessness from you.

Always so sweet and carefree, as if you were oblivious to the world around you, to all of the death and violence that followed human kind. Ellie used to need that behavior from you because you would provide her with a beacon of light that she wasn't able to be herself. However, now, that beacon felt ever-blinding. She felt the need to drop the lantern that was your hope onto the floor, even if it shattered her in the process.

Silence followed.

You didn't question her again. You simply grabbed a kitchen towel, knees falling to the floor as you began to rub at the spilled wine. It wasn't like how you had cleaned earlier, not like it was something you focused on to forget Ellie's negligence. Now, it was like you were on the midst of reaching your lowest point in life. Fuck, now that made Ellie feel really, really guilty.

Tears were patching up your vision, making it hard to see. Streams of salty moisture was now visible on your cheeks, hands shaking as you frantically tried to gather up pieces of glass without a thought to what it'd feel like to hurt yourself with a shard brushing up against your skin.

Ellie tried to reason that she should scurry off upstairs to leave you alone without a second thought, but her mouth was speaking before she could process what she was saying.

"I know it's not your fault. It's all mine." She sounded, for the first time, like she cared.

You gazed up at her through tear-clouded eyes. You should've probably kicked her out for the night, told her to go back to Jackson and crash on Jesse's couch. Something deep within you, something foolish and perhaps even blind, stopped you.

"Just..head to bed, okay? Go to bed, and I'll get this all cleaned up." You mumbled quietly, and the lack of hope or effort to appease her didn't go unnoticed by Ellie. She could tell you were about to really be done with her.

This would be the first night she would be sleeping in your shared bed. She probably would've protested, but all the fight contained within her to push you away was released. Ellie only nodded and her footsteps faded as she left the kitchen.

Cleaning vigorously only helped distract you from the racing in your chest just a bit.

You used to believe that Ellie was confidently obsessed with you. Her heart used to seem so yearning for you and her hands, those needy hands would always seek you out. Now, you felt as one-sided as this had started. Nothing could completely wipe away the pain of feeling unwanted, no amount of scrubbing away the wine or sweeping up glass. Nothing could ever be the same, you were starting to believe.

The kitchen floor was shiny now, but you felt like a train-wreck inside. You longed for life to feel easier, even with the struggles you were forced to endure. It's much harder to face those alone, and it's especially hard when the person you're losing is slipping away on their own and not by the grim reaper's grasp. Your hands grasped at the table for support as you lifted yourself up off of the ground after scrubbing away the mess completely, and you slowly entered the bedroom.

Ellie wasn't buried underneath the blankets. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and you could tell she was waiting for you to be done cleaning. You felt uneasy in your stomach, and all you wanted was for her to finally speak. But she was silent until the words that made your face pale left her chapped lips.

"I have to leave."

"...what?" You wanted to put up a fight. You wished you had it in you to scream and yell at her, to beg and plead for her to stay, but she'd completely drained your once rose-tinted cheeks of power. She held a grasp over you and intended to squeeze.

She finally looked at you. "I have to kill them, and then maybe I can come back to you and be who you need me to be."

She was truly demented now, you thought to yourself. Your fingers were twitching, fidgeting with the end of your sleeve. She had the audacity to speak again.

"I can get revenge and maybe then, I can-"

"Just go. I'm done pretending like I want this. I feel like I'm living with a damn ghost, Ellie." You couldn't take it anymore: the one-sided fights, the one-sided feelings, the constant distance and sleepless nights. At this point, you weren't sure if you wanted her to return. She looked surprised that you had agreed so easily, though, and it left her feeling even worse because Ellie could tell that you just simply gave up.

"Alright, then. I promise I'll be back. I promise I still love you. I'm so sorry." She stood up slowly and her hands cupped your face. You made no move to lean into her touch or to push her away, only silently appreciate her warmth, even though your mind was telling you she probably wouldn't be coming back.

She leaned in, her warm breath on your cheek, and pressed two plush lips to it. You let out a breath of your own and closed your eyes. Footsteps rang in your head louder than her boots realistically were.

When your eyes opened, she was gone.

_

Spring followed suit of the bitter winter.

The trees that were once devoid of life sprouted new potential, and the creek stream flowed ever-the-same. Little white flowers with their pure petals sprouted in your yard, and the sheep seemed to be more content with the grassy utopia grown throughout the yard now that the cold was behind it.

Overall, the atmosphere was lighter and swept clean of a hopeless, frigid ache. It had been approximately four months since Ellie left.

The first and second month was the hardest. You wondered how someone could just leave the person they claim to love the hardest in their life. You thought that the pain would be never-ending, but you were always changing, just like the seasons. Just not in chronological order, only through cycles that couldn't end.

Even after four months, sometimes you thought of her. You wondered if she was gone from the Earth, her body left to be feasted upon by infected or if she was on some dirty floor with a bullet in her head. You wouldn't be surprised; the girl had too much bravado, and she'd be sure to get herself killed that way. She couldn't suck it up, even to the one behind the gun. Still, the ache in your chest was lightening.

You felt guilty to think that you were moving on. She could actually come back, and she'd be needing you more than anything. She could walk through that wooden door at any minute and grovel over the months she hurt you.

You were starting to wonder if you could bear to take her back. The chores were easier than ever, though, now that you didn't feel the tense grief looming in the air. The house was empty, and you were completely alone, and somehow not as lonely as you could imagine.

However, late at night, you would dwell on what Ellie would do if she were here, and if the grief she carried would've been passed like it should've been. You could somehow feel the way her breath would tickle your neck and she'd trace her chapped but soft lips over your skin like she was tending to more than just some girl. Like you were her goddess, and that was how things once were. You could still smell her everywhere in your bed, the scent of sweat mixed in with Earth. It always lingered and the memories of her ghost touches seemed to hit you like a flash bang.

Those nights grew less and less frequent, however.

_

Summer nights were spent in the old house you inhabited in Jackson.

The farmhouse was much too spacious for one person, so after much consideration, you returned to the settlement.

You were welcomed with warm, open arms. You desperately missed your friend, Dina, and how she matched your spirits. You spent the summer going to parties and bonfires, staying over at Dina's house and smoking the occasional weed. Your once quiet lifestyle turned into what it once was, maybe even better. Nights became filled with the sound of your crackled laughter, and Dina sporting up some joke that Jesse would roll his eyes at watching you topple over, clutching at your stomach as if it were the peak of comedy.

Your house felt warm and filled with new emotions; it was like the once pale, neutral undertones were painted over with a layer of bright, fresh paint. Still, the cracks in the walls of your soul would remain at times.

Always did the freckled face, the auburn tufts of hair, and the wide eyes follow you, though. After a while, it all seemed to fade away, like a bath bomb in water. You pulled the drain out and you believed that you closed the chapter on Ellie's presence in your life.

It was then, on a late July day, that she returned.

[creatingblackcharacters]

hi there; first, thank you for making this blog and all the lessons you do, i really appreciate them as a Black person because it highlights a lot of struggles i face with fandoms in general, and why i dont interact more in certain spaces. it makes me feel seen

with regards to your questions, i'd also like answers to them from nonblack fans, especially nonblack anime fans. i don't even mean consuming anime with overtly racist caricatures of black characters (because numerous anime fans pirate their anime and never send a cent to the creators anyway), i mean how can they make fanworks of it?

how can they look at something that they are told is wildly offensive, but then defend with "well, this is how it looks in canon"? where is the line drawn between what's okay and what isn't? as long as it's slow and gradual, is there no line at all?

these are probably just rehashings of your own followup questions, so please excuse that, but i do have an anecdote

i joined a casual anime server the other day and a lot of folks were lamenting one Black character's racist design and how often those on social media will replicate it without thinking/caring. The thing that struck me is that, I've checked this character's tumblr tag regularly for a long time. There are always people who will post art/fanworks of this character with his racist design. Yet hardly ever, if ever, (outside of Black fans) have I seen any of these folks- the ones in the discord server- try to talk to artists/writers/fan creators/etc via asks/replies/etc. There's a notable amount of people in that server and a notable amount that agreed the design was outright racist and that they'll never make fanworks like that, and yet still silence

i'm not entirely sure what would be the line, or the "okay, that's enough" moment to spur any of these folks into action. i'm not sure if there is one. the only reason i don't make my own "hey what is wrong with all of you" post and blow up is because I've made a wonderful little friend group in this fandom who get it, and I don't want them to get caught up in whatever happens if I were to make a post like that

And this is just for getting people to stop using the canon design of the character, i.e., to stop drawing him as a racist caricature. This isn't touching on the people who 1) lighten his skintone [he's been horribly whitewashed over time, which has been reflected in some fanarts and fan merch], or 2) give him a looser hair/straight hair texture, rather than his type 4 hair (there's also #3, which is fanfiction with straight up slurs, and horribly racist writing in it that my friend heavily warned me not to read, but that was more of a one-off case and I've had the creator blocked a long time now).

my point being, we (Black fans) can't even get folks to stop with the caricatures, which we have to start with, and then there's even more of an annoying uphill battle with the other stuff. I'm just so tired of all of this; it makes me want delete my own works and turn away from fandom all together because i can't stand it.

trying for polite and assuming ignorance hardly ever works, speaking bluntly doesnt work at all, making public posts hardly goes anywhere (partly because of how rarely people reblog things anymore, partly because it makes people 'uncomfortable' to share this information with others). Black fans so obviously need help to combat this, and yet it's like sitting at a tea party and hearing all these pretty words in this one setting, yet nobody does anything different/better when the party's over/outside this setting.

sorry for dooming a bit, but like, genuinely i would like to know where the line is for nonblack folks? what is the point/are the points where you would speak up against antiblack racism? have you ever considered speaking up? if there's ever a moment you recognized antiblack racism and didn't say anything, why didn't you? did you consider how your lack of speaking up might affect your fellow Black fans? or how Black fans may be interpret this as silent agreement with the racists/with the racist 'norm'?

..those could maybe be alternative ways of asking your last followup question?

(if i've made any blunders or overstepped here, please let me know!)

No, I'm glad you spoke up! I too would like to see answers!

[whentherewerebicycles]

ok and now some thoughts about my early experience of parenting.

it kinda rocks... i really like it. i will definitely have a second kid if finances and biology work out. my life is so much better with this little guy in it. the sacrifices so far are mostly minor and are much more logistical than personal. i have to work more hours than i'd ideally want to because there's only one paycheck. i have to try to cobble together more sleep than i used to because i am pretty tired at the end of the day. i can't go to the gym or run an errand or go write at a coffeeshop for a few hours without hiring a sitter or asking my friends to help out. but the tradeoff is i get to be this little kid's mom. he thinks i'm pretty funny and he's interested in everything i do and he calls to me to get me to come over to his mat and talk to him and he likes to grab my face and hold it still so he can study it real intently and when he's upset he wants me to snuggle him until he feels better. i would pick that over getting to run into a store without the stroller a million times over.

i remember reading this book years ago where someone (paulo freire? someone influenced by freire's pedagogy?) recommended that all teachers, no matter how long they'd been teaching, carve out time every six months to reflect on their teaching practices and consider whether those practices were aligned with their core/guiding values as educators. i obviously love this idea because i was born to engage in sustained reflective journaling about my values lol. but also: i do think there's value in setting aside time at regular intervals to check in with yourself about the way you are living, or about whatever you are practicing, whether it's teaching or your work with others or, in this case, parenting. so idk i might try using his birthday and half birthday as time to journal both about my kid and about my own practice of parenting.

do i have a practice of parenting?? that sounds too fancy for someone who is only six months in lol. but i do enjoy thinking about what i'm doing and i like trying to connect the day-to-day choices i'm making to larger principles. i have written about this before but idk i think i am somebody who derives a strong sense of security and groundedness from having a loose framework of guiding values i can refer to when making decisions. and i guess in this first round of reflective journaling i will try to articulate what some of those emerging values/principles are. here we go:

I am making a conscious effort to not sweat the small stuff. there are one million things you can be worried or stressed about in parenting. and there are one million ways you can fall into the trap of thinking that if you just control every single variable nothing bad will happen to your kid. i am trying, inasmuch as i can, to avoid at least a few ways of falling into that trap. i have worked really hard to choose flexibility instead of rigidity when it comes to, for instance, letting other people care for my kid. it's okay if people do things differently than i would - as long as he's safe, he can only benefit from being exposed to different caretaking styles and adapting to different people's ways of engaging with him. i also made a decision early on to not engage with any parenting content on social media (this means ignoring the dozens of insta reels my mom sends me every week lol) and that has been really healthy/good for me. there is TOO MUCH information out there. it is way too overwhelming. you could spend your whole life worrying and i want to spend my life doing other things, like funny accents and comedy bits for the baby.

i am working hard to not interpret other people's parenting choices as a judgment of my own. i really believe that there are lots of different ways to raise healthy, well-adjusted kids. we can make different choices (small and big choices!) and still arrive at the same outcomes. i just really don't want to be the kind of person who takes it personally when people do something differently than i would've! i want to be secure enough in my choices to be able to accept and appreciate a whole range of other parenting styles. i also want to be humble enough to realize that i don't have it all figured out and might learn something from reflecting on someone else's parenting choices. anyway this has been a challenging one as i sometimes DO feel quite judged or shamed by other people's choices. but i also think it's ok to feel that reaction as long as i can keep making space for myself to take a deep breath and think through why i feel like that. idk! work in progress but i've only had six months of practice lol.

i am also trying not to interpret other people's anxieties as anything other than them working through their own stuff. to give one example: i love my mom so much but she is just, like, vibrating out of her skin with anxiety at all times about literally everything. and she has really found an outlet for that anxiety in grandparenting. i get dozens of texts a week about what exercises i should be doing with him and what experiences i should be making sure he has and where i should be taking him and what i should be saying to him and what i should be asking the doctor about and so on and so forth. this obviously could be pretty stressful, and i know that my brother and SIL find it so stressful that it is kind of negatively impacting their relationship with her. but idk i feel like with my mom i spent a lot of my life taking her anxieties personally, thinking that she thought i was incompetent/incapable/irresponsible/whatever. and then at some point in the last few years i was just like oh... this isn't about me at all, is it? this has absolutely nothing to do with me. this is just her fear and her terror of doing things wrong and her overwhelming need to avoid shame, and all of that emotional stuff just happens to be playing out in this relationship because we are close enough that she can lets her emotional walls down and let me see the churning river of anxiety that runs through the heart of her life. i wish that she didn't feel like that. but it's also not something i can fix or change. the only thing that is within my control is the choice not to take it personally, which in turn helps me put some guardrails around it so that it doesn't impact our relationship. idk i think this will probably be an ongoing thing i have to sort through for myself. but also she is who she is and i love her and it is important to me that she be a big part of owen's life. so we will figure it out.

I refuse to optimize my parenting because i refuse to see my child as a thing that needs to be optimized. this is in some ways hard for me because in many respects i am all-in on the very american philosophy that everything can be improved endlessly, including yourself and your family, if you just work harder and care more and give endlessly of yourself to the work. but nope! nope. not for parenting. not for my kid. i want him to have experiences and be exposed to new things, but not so he can "get ahead" or excel in things. i want him to be curious, engaged, interested, flexible, alive to the world, open to new things. i do not care if he is bilingual by age four or has a STEM curriculum at his daycare or goes to a top college or whatever. and i want the choices i make about what we do together and how we spend our time to reflect that. idk he's still so little that this is not super relevant yet but i can feel some of it creeping in.

lastly: i am trying to approach all aspects of parenting with the fundamental belief that i am and will be a good parent. i feel like our culture wants women in particular to spend all their time feeling guilty and inadequate as mothers. we also don't get a lot of external feedback on whether or not we're doing a good job as parents, which i think can make us frantic for validation and riddled with self-doubt over whether we are doing Enough. but i want to just like, try to cut some of that out and just answer it for myself. i'm doing a great job. i'm a great mom. i love my kid and my kid loves me. as i learn more about my child and myself as a parent i will undoubtedly adjust my approach to parenting many times, but making adjustments doesn't mean i was doing something "wrong" or "bad" before. it just means i want to try something new or shift gears a little bit. idk maybe this sounds dumb but i actually think it is proving kind of powerful so far as a strategy for managing parenting anxiety. i just assume that my parenting instincts are reasonably good and will guide me to make reasonably good choices, and if something turns out not to work, i assume i am a good enough parent to figure it out and adapt accordingly.

ok!! good journaling session and now it's time for bed!!

[sleepingdayaway]

For The Dancing And The Dreaming

Guys idk how I’m doing this on mobile I usually post it on my laptop so idk if this will look good. Anyways it’s 4:30 in the morning and this is not edited. I wrote this spur of the moment bc I’m an idiot that doesn’t know how to write.

This is no specific Link! I wrote this bc I’m TRYING to write my own LOZ fic but got distracted. Either way I’m tired

You watch the roaring fire as it flickers in the night. The light from it shines around the area as you exhale softly. There is no point in camping outside anymore, but it's something that the both of you keep doing even after the adventure is over. 

It's the familiar feeling of having to take a quick rest before continuing to the next destination. The same feeling of having to rest with each other, having the world shut off, and being able to take a moment.

Footsteps approach your position before coming to a stop beside you, looking up and seeing the person who you; you’ve known your entire life. You're both older than when you first started the journey, for it caused you many physical challenges but still there are moments where you feel as though you’re back to before it all. 

Tonight is another night of thinking of the past; the bad and good, your accomplishments and your failures. They all still haunt you to this day even if your deeds were good. 

The weight of being back to nothing more than those kids again; the kids who had their own small bubble without knowing more than the whole world. Their only concern is if they'll be caught messing around again, or what new activity you'll try this time before getting bored and going back to the old ways.

A hand gently grasping onto yours pulls you out of your thoughts. Which makes you look up at him and witness the adoring smile he gives you. From the moment everything started he kept looking at you with the same emotion, but if you were to be honest, he held that look far before everything. Link, although not a very talkative person, is able to convey everything that he wants to say in different ways and still be able to express everything.

Watching him change from the boy you used to know to a hero who saved Hyrule; it made you happy to know that you were there the entire time. That he was able to rely on you and your own skills; and how you were able to also rely on him as well.

Never would either you believe that this was your destiny, but you're glad that you both had each other.

And now here you are in each other's presence with the fire in front of you. 

"I’m glad that we were in this together, Link." You said softly and curled your fingers around his hand. He hums in agreement and leaned into you; never taking his eyes off you. 

No one calls for either of you. There is nobody that needs to be saved anymore.

It's just the both of you once more. 

If you were to tell Link before this whole thing started that you'd be with him the entire time. He'd laugh but wouldn't deny it; he'd merely give a look with a shake of his head. Anything that he did, you would be right there and jump in with him. 

The both of you were practically inseparable; if he was there doing something then you would probably be somewhere nearby. For as long as Link knew you he could confidently say that he wouldn't trust anyone else than you.

Your unwavering presence motivated him to keep going. Your snarky remarks about the monsters. The way you freely expressed your fear, but still continued to fight. It made him feel a bit better about his own fears. You were his breath of fresh air whenever the journey took a huge toll on him. How you held him during the moments when he was able to take a break; and reassured him that he was only human that couldn’t shoulder everything. You shared his burden without a word and just held him in your arms.

Link liked you.

He always has if he's being honest, but it was during that moment where it fully clicked that he was fully unashamedly in love with you. Link wanted nothing more than to kiss you; to show his love and affection just for you.

Link decided at that moment that he will be there for you from that moment on. He may be Hyrule's Hero, The Golden Goddesses Chosen Hero, forever destined to pick up the Blade of Evil's Bane.

But for you he'll be anything for you.

He will be your hero until the next lifetime. Neither time nor death will separate him from you for he'll always find you no matter what. 

Suddenly he stood up and pulled you with him and held you close. Staring into your eyes with many emotions running through them. 

“[Name], I want you to know that I love you.” Link spoke softly as he kept holding you. You blink at him since it’s been awhile you’ve heard him call your name; relaxing in his hold you smile.

 “You’ve been through this whole thing with me even though I didn’t ask you to,” he continues, “So now, I want to be there for you with anything you need. I love you and I can’t see myself without you being near me.” He confesses.

He would do anything just to have you by his side, “I would bring you gems, jewelry; I will defend you from any creature that tries to hurt you, if you’ll have me-” Link chokes up a bit as he feels his emotions take a hold of him.

You reached out and held his face in your hands, and brought him closer to you. “I don’t have any use for gems nor jewelry. I don’t care if you can protect me or not, I will gladly stay by you.”

Laughing gently at your words, Link places his head onto yours as you run your fingers through his hair. “My dear, I could never be cruel to deny you nor my love. As long as I’m beside you; I am satisfied.” You continued before closing your eyes and leaning onto him.

The world may never call for Link anymore, but that’s fine with him. As long as he has you he’ll forever be hopelessly in love.

[giddythekitty]

A little speculation of mine regarding shifting

Disclaimer: Everything I say in this post is only what I think might be blocking some of us in shifting to not-parallels. Take it as you wish but don’t come for me because I warned you.

So, shifting.

We already know social media is an issue, lots of people talked about it before. But I kinda want to dive a little deeper.

Because yeah, social media(including Tumblr) does affect you, but why?(and also a few secondary causes)

Burnout

Usually(me personally) I spend a lot of time doomscrolling on Tiktok or here on Tumblr and looking at things about my s/o or my cc or a friend there or the likes. While it’s not exactly a bad thing to look for ‘motivation’ per se, it kills some intention to shift to that reality because you have a small substitute for it here.

2. AI chatbots

Remember, your subconscious can’t tell the difference between what you see and what you tell it you see. Same goes for conversations or movies or books. Maybe even dreams. It doesn’t differentiate between a real conversation and one with a chatbot, so again, some of that intention is killed.

3. Daydreaming/‘roleplaying’

Am I saying either of those are bad things? No. Am I saying they are absolutely terrible for you if you want to shift? No again. What I’m saying is if you do it too much it might also affect your intention and/or motivation to shift. If you need an example, I’ll give one. I like to listen to music a lot, because it’s a coping mechanism and an escape from ‘the real world’. Usually many of these songs are accompanied by scenes I make up in my head and most of the ones I personally have are related to who I am in one DR but talking to some characters from a different place. Like a crossover of the sorts. There is not a single day where I haven’t listened to at least one song.

4. Looking at other shifters for help

So many shifters have said it before and by god am I tired of saying it too, but shifting is a path of self discovery. Like a puzzle. You’re given the pieces and the final image, but you’re the one who has to put them together, not someone else for you. You already have all you need, wasting time looking for answers to questions like ‘why am I not shifting’ or ‘what else do I have to do to shift’ can become hurtful. Sure, advice from time to time is helpful, but constantly doing it won’t get you anywhere.

Your mom didn’t spoon feed you your entire life, did she? She showed you how to do it yourself when you were old enough to learn, and you had to practice on your own and build up strength in your little toddler hands how to hold a spoon properly so you can eat.

So what do all these have in common and to do with shifting?

Simple: Intention and Motivation. Your will to get there.

Now I’m not saying to stop them all together, but I am saying that they should be cut off— rationed if you will— significantly if it means those of us with said issue want to get rid of it.

Again, it kills the intention to shift. Your conscious can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s fake, so it always thinks seeing an edit of your favorite person is really similar to seeing them IRL. From my point of view(mine personally), intention isn’t always there.

Let’s give another example and pretend intention is sugar. Sweetness in general. If you have it sometimes, you’re fine. Maybe you want more, but it’s okay. If you take it in big quantities though, it can become an addiction and lead to diabetes or an insulinic shock.

Now pretend all those things I counted out above as the sugar. You take too much and you might end up hurting yourself at some point or just staying at the same level. Spending all day doomscrolling, looking at other peoole for help, chatting with ais and so on, all while having the ‘it’ll help me shift tonight’ mindset won’t get you too far because you’re just exhausting yourself.

And no one’s saying the change has to be instant. You can’t stop an addiction immediately because it’ll just hurt you more, but you can slowly lessen the dose until it’s minimal or nonexistent. At the end of the day you’re only helping yourself, and what’s a thousand years to an eternity of bliss?

I know this is long, but I feel it needs to be put out there. This feels like important information/advice/take it as you will, and let me know if you have questions and I’ll make sure to answer/clarify them.

Happy shifting and take a break if you need to.

[proship-culture-is]

Proship culture is being annoyed at how antis always try to dictate what someone is allowed to do or not in fiction..

"Uhmmmmm, you're not allowed to enjoy that in fiction because [insert any reason]."

I find something very concerning here, and it's antis using the words "you CAN/CANNOT."

And I ask them: who are you to police what others do with their imagination and freedom of speech? Now that’s something antis actually can’t do because, the very moment they attempt to dictate what someone can or can’t create in fiction, they’re contradicting the very concept of freedom.

You know where there are actual laws policing what people think, say, or do as art? Totalitarian dictatorships, like communist countries such as North Korea. Having freedom of speech means people are free to think and say whatever they want, as long as they don’t break any law.

I’ve been an OC creator since I was 6 or 7 years old. And I’ve been a WWII OC creator since I was 13. I currently have a bunch of WWII OCs. These OCs include Nazis, Soviets, and even more controversial characters. Of course, I don’t support Nazis or communists. And of course, I don’t condone WWII. The reason I have these WWII OCs is because I like history. And it’s genuinely funny to me when antis come up to me and say I’m not allowed to make WWII OCs. Antis always say, “Making Nazi OCs makes you a Nazi!” They also talk about how fiction genuinely harms people.

Any type of fiction such as books, games, shows, ect, do not harm people. You know who used to think books harmed people? The people of Nazi Germany. Those who worshipped Hitler. Yes, that’s correct. The people that antis are comparing me to are the ones who believed what antis believe and try to force others to follow: the idea that fiction harms people. The Nazis genuinely thought fiction (books, in their context) harmed people, so they decided to burn them because they didn’t agree with them.

As a person born and living in Austria, it’s incredibly insensitive and disturbing to be called a Nazi, especially considering Hitler was Austrian too. Not to mention how incredibly dangerous it is to water down the meanings of words. I don’t condone Hitler’s actions or support his ideology; therefore, I am not a Nazi. I’m just an OC creator who finds WWII history interesting.

I’ve had people telling me that my OCs are illegal because Nazi topics are taboo in Austria. And as someone who actually lives in Austria and meets Austrians every day: They’re not. My OCs would be considered illegal if they portrayed Hitler or Nazis in a positive light, which they do not. My Nazi OCs are portrayed as villains. They are portrayed as the bad people. Therefore, my OCs are not illegal. I’ve talked to Austrian adults who are educated about this topic. They all agreed my OCs are fine as long as they don’t romanticize or glorify Nazis - which, again, they do not. If non-glorified Nazi-themed fiction were really illegal in Austria, I wouldn’t be able to watch shows with Nazi characters on TV. All books containing Nazi characters would be banned. All the video games with Nazi tanks and planes would be illegal to play. Guess what? They’re not. Because it’s fiction.

To the antis seeing this: be not so quick to dispense judgment about who can or can’t do things. You may not want to find yourself, in the near future, with fingers pointed at you simply because you told people to stop enjoying something just because you don’t like it. Also, stop harassing people. Their fiction didn’t do anything to you. You just can’t handle people having harmless fun.

I’m sorry for the long text. It’s just that, as an autistic OC creator with a special interest in WWII, it’s sickening to me that I get called a Nazi for simply having fun with my fictional characters. I’m just so tired of antis dictating what others can and cannot do. I genuinely appreciate everyone who took the time to read this.

☆

[entering--hyperspace]

Cannot imagine whatever is going on through Mr Leonard Echowatcher's head. You spend your life yearning for a world where you lived differently, where the day wasnt soaked in war, blood, and battle. Where you could envision a future where you have a partner and a family with friends to live gracefully with. But then you are given such opportunities only to find you were never taught to be gentle, you have a gentle, empathetic nature and yet the physicality of it is a stranger to you. You are expected to raise a child with gentle hands so that she saves the world, What does that even mean? How can you accept your growing love for your friend when you were never taught how to love, that intimate love is a luxury best left forgotten, there are no need for such things in war. He has to learn to become the things he wanted bc he grew too old to develop it naturally. He becomes a father to taimi fumbling his way into learning how to care and parent, he is defensive of Aurene bc he is from a culture where they arent expected to raise their own young and yet has to do so with a dragon. It feels like a test, He has to prove both to others and to himself he is capable of being a father, of nuturing, that calloused, stained hands can still be gentle. He has to accept that love is a terrifying leap of faith in vulnerability in order to gain a partnership that is considered a rarity. I love the idea that he spent 30 years yearning for things he thought he would never have and when he is actually given those opportunities (albeit admittedly through unusual circumstances) he has to learn how to actually live in them, becuase they were always just Concepts until now. Ohhhh my god Mr. Leo you are my everything

[sysig]

He’s my little meow meow, my darling, my bbygirl (Patreon)

[peachiyyy]

lol extremely religious people are always objectively horrible people it’s crazy i thought you guys were supposed to be the good ones!!

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

All I've seen on the left this election has been a loop of

"I'm not voting Harris cause she's pro-genocide"

"But then you're letting Trump into power! It'll be on you when trans kids die!"

and

"I'm voting Harris cause I don't want Hitler Jr in charge again"

"So Palestine doesn't matter to you? Someone finally showed their true colors!"

I feel like we're saying the same things here. Some coordination would be nice, people.

[bredforloyalty]

well not every shift is good it took me a while but i have taken notice of this

[gynaiko]

ㅤㅤㅤSTELLA   IS   NOT   A   GOOD   MOTHER,   AT   ALL;   QUITE   NEGLECTFUL,   ACTUALLY.   THE   KIND   TO   SAY   ‘THAT’S   NICE,   DEAR’   WHILE   NOT   EVEN   LOOKING   AT   VIA.   HOWEVER,   I   DON’T   SUBSCRIBE   TO   FANON’S   GENERAL   INTERPRETATION   WHERE   SHE’S   APPARENTLY   WILLING   TO   KILL   HER   JUST   TO   SPITE   STOLAS.   WE   STILL   HAVEN’T   SEEN   HER   INTERACT   WITH   OCTAVIA   BUT   IF   SHE   TRULY   HATED   HER,   SHE   WOULD   HAVE   THROWN   A   FIT   WHEN   ANDRE   POINTED   OUT   VIA   WOULD   GET   EVERYTHING,

ㅤㅤㅤ&   WHEN   SHE   WAS   SCREECHING   AT   STOLAS,   ASKING   IF   HE   WAS   ‘TURNING   HER   ( VIA )   AGAINST   HER   ( STELLA )’   —   CLEARLY,   SHE   CARES   FOR   VIA.   AGAIN,   SHE’S   NOT   A   GOOD   MOTHER,   PERHAPS   NOT   CODDLING   OR   ‘MOTHERLY’   BUT   ENOUGH   THAT   VIA   HAS   GOOD   MEMORIES   OF   HER   ( PER   THE   LOO   LOO   LAND   EPISODE ),

ㅤㅤㅤREAD   THE   TAGS   FOR   MY   TINFOIL   HAT   RAMBLINGS ,

[girlcrushau]

[sparky-is-spiders]

Hi! I’m here suffering from lack of good Archivist!Sasha content as well 😭 On that note, do you have any fic on that topic you would recommend? Or just good Sasha fics in general, (or Jonsasha, if that’s your cup of tea)? Thank you in advance 😊

Tragically, I think there is a general dearth of good Archivist!Sasha content (and just about none of it Jonsasha content, as far as I can tell (and not only is Jonsasha my cup of tea, but the ONLY thing standing between it and the #1 OTP spot (currently occupied by JE) is the fact that the Jonsasha that I desperately crave exists in my brain and nowhere else)). Admittedly, I haven't looked very far into her tag yet (I should rectify that at some point tbh) but I've dug around the Jonsasha tag when I first got into it, and I know at least one fic where Sasha drifts towards Beholding through an interest in office gossip.

In terms of Jonsasha Ao3 has:

This very good Sasha lives fic where Jon shows up to Georgie's with an unconscious Sasha and everyone involved is very confused.

These two fics are cute also. The former is by @/suttttton and is them getting together, the latter is established Jonsasha from @/dickwheelie.

Eyevatar Sasha might actually be thinner on the ground (outside of fix-its where she solves everything and her canon reckless curiosity is completely ignored). Ao3 has:

This fic, which is Jongerry with outsider PoV Sasha. Just barely has the implication that she might be shifting towards the Eye (via prying into the lives of her coworkers) but gets a mention through sheer force of Excellent Sasha Characterization. I read this and I feel like I'm reading a fic from a Sasha Understander.

There's also this fic, which looks very promising but which I haven't actually gotten the chance to read yet, so I can't speak to its quality.

Unfortunately I've only gotten into Sasha fairly recently (especially as compared to Jon, who my brain latched onto in a deathgrip from the start), so I haven't gone through her tag yet. A scroll through the Archivist!Sasha or Beholding Avatar!Sasha tags pulls up a lot of fix-it and J//mart, which isn't really what I'm looking for from the concept. I'm sure there's more out there, and if/when I find them I'll come back to this ask probably, but I lucked into Reverse Nighthawks (I was on a Jongerry kick).

But god every day I wish that I could write romance and/or longfic, because about a year ago I read a Jonmichael fic that, when discussing alternate universes (where Jon ended the world) it's revealed that he once did an apocalypse out of love for his Archivist, Sasha James. And it was one (1) single line, but it struck me so hard because god. A perfect concept I think. The potential dynamics of Archivist!Sasha/Assistant!Jon are enthralling to me. Jon destroying the world (or helping her destroy the world? Cute date night I think: bringing about armageddon with your eldritch monster partner) for Sasha... anyway mostly I mentioned that one because My God if I have to live with that tantalizing AU rotating in the background of my mind 24/7 so do the rest of you.

[sluttyten]

I still have 5 hours left in my shift 😭😭😭

[fatcowboys]

doctors? bad.