#but if you’re mad bc I made Grim ‘woke’

[midnight-the-goth-artist]

(The post)

Did y’all think I was joking?

The GRIM Reaper?

Nope.

That’s the ❤️‍🔥💀🖤✨GLAM✨🖤💀❤️‍🔥 Reaper

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically) 

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

--

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone. 

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it. 

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness. 

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.” 

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?” 

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them. 

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look. 

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features. 

“It might rain tonight.” 

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction. 

“You distracted me on purpose.” 

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing. 

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.” 

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth. 

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.” 

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?” 

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?” 

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.” 

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.” 

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.” 

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door. 

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force. 

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.” 

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--” 

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.” 

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse. 

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” 

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion. 

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.” 

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz. 

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.” 

He turns his head slightly. “You should.” 

“Too bad.” 

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.” 

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.” 

“A look?” 

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.” 

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.” 

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?” 

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.” 

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.” 

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.” 

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came. 

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.” 

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off. 

“Like what?” 

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.” 

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?” 

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.” 

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.” 

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--” 

“Your upbringing makes sense--” 

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--” 

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.” 

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.” 

And then I keep reading. 

--

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag 

[naruto-oneshots-blog]

Can you do a Shikamaru one shot with him asking his s/o’s father for her hand in marriage but like her father is dead so he goes to his grave to ask an she hears him Bc she is going to visit her father

I literally love this idea so much!

____

A chilling wind blew through the streets of Konoha as you walked back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend Shikamaru. You had just finished a long mission and were more than ready to curl up beside the lazy Nara and nap. Climbing stairs, you entered the apartment to find Shikamaru sprawled out on the couch, seemingly awaiting your arrival.

 “Hey (Y/N),” He greeted not bothering to get up. Throwing your bag on the ground you collapsed onto the couch and onto Shikamaru which caused him to let out a surprised grunt. “You’re such a pain.” He groaned as you turned onto your stomach. You laced your arms around his neck and rested your head on his chest.

 “You love me.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

 “That I do.” He replied and ran his hand up and down your back. “If you wanna nap we should go to the bedroom.” You only grunted in reply. Shikamaru let out an exasperated sigh and decided to carry you to the bedroom. He hoisted you up with minimal effort and carried you bridal style to your shared bedroom, setting you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You followed suit and took both your shirt and pants off groaning with the effort it took you. It had been a long time since a mission had made you this tired. Shikamaru let out a quiet laugh as you struggled to remove your socks. He gently grabbed your feet and removed them for you. Shikamaru might be a lazy man, but for you, he would move mountains, though he would probably complain that it was a drag once or twice.

 Finally, you had removed your clothes, save for your underwear. Shikamaru climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. You pressed your face into his neck and snuggled closer to him. These were the times you lived for. You loved to come home after a mission and curl up with the man you loved, sleeping for hours on end. You pressed a gentle kiss on Shikamaru’s exposed neck. He replied with a content sigh. Shikamaru’s hand ran up and down your back, beckoning sleep to take you, and in no time it did.

 While you were sleeping you dreamt about Shikamaru; specifically, how the two of you first officially met. It was at the time of the chunin exams. The two of you knew each other before then but never really talked seeing as you were in different friend groups. You were scheduled to battle a ninja from the Village Hidden in the Mist when the Sand Village launched their attack on your village. Naturally, you wanted to fight but your father wouldn’t let you. He told you to go to the evacuation point and wait with the civilians and non-combatants, but you, being a stubborn person, didn’t follow his orders. You argued with him and told him straight up that you wouldn’t sit back idly while your friends and comrades died to protect the village. After that, you stormed off to follow Naruto and the other genin who had gone after the sand ninja that attacked the village. On the way, you came across Asuma-Sensi and continued on with him. It was then that you found Shikamaru who was facing a bunch of sound ninja. It was a good thing you came when you did, otherwise, Shikamaru probably would’ve been another casualty of the attack. You and Asuma easily took down the sound ninja. Shikamaru was close to collapsing so Asuma instructed you to take him somewhere safe and let him rest.

 “That would’ve been a drag if you hadn’t shown up.” He said as you sat down beside him.

 “You’re welcome.” You replied and looked him over. “Here, let me heal those cuts.”

 “You know medical ninjutsu?” You nodded and began to heal his wounds. They were minimal which was good. “My mother was a high ranking medical ninja. She taught me all she knew.” Shikamaru said nothing as you tended to his wounds. “So, you’re a Nara, right? You guys are the ones who use Shadow Possession Jutsu.”

 “Yeah.” Was all he replied.

 “You don’t talk much do you?” You asked with a laugh.

 “It’s just a hassle to talk right now.” Shikamaru shot an apologetic smile at you. “A nap would be awesome right now.”

 “Then go ahead and nap. I’ll wake you if anything happens.” A surprised look crossed his face. “I'm (Y/N) by the way if you couldn’t remember from the academy. You didn’t seem to pay attention all that often.”

 “Shikamaru.” He replied and closed his eye. Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep and slumped against you, his head resting on your shoulder.

 You let Shikamaru nap for a while until you were anxious to get back to the village. Shaking him, you said his name in hopes of waking him easily. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Finally, you yelled his name in his ear and gave him a shove. Shikamaru woke with a jolt which made you laugh.

 “You’re such a drag.” He complained with a groan.

 “Well, we need to get back to the village. It’s been an hour and a half since we found you and it sounds like it’s calming down.” You got up and offered Shikamaru your hand.

 “An hour and a half?” Shikamaru asked surprised. “You could’ve woken me sooner.” A small blush crept across his cheeks.

 “It’s alright. You needed to gain some of your chakra back.” You said simply. “Now let’s get back.”

 It took you half an hour to get back to the village and when you made it back you had to pause to comprehend the damage. You said nothing as you headed back towards where the chunin exams were being held. Before you got there, you were pulled away from Shikamaru by a medical ninja.

 “(Y/N), it’s madness in the hospital. We need all the help we can get.” She said sounding distraught.

 “Calm down,” You chastised gently, “We can’t be losing our head at times like this. Everything will be alright.” You offered her a reassuring smile. Little did you know, Shikamaru was staring at you in awe. He later told you that he was amazed at how calm you were in that situation and that it was one of the reasons he fell for you. “I guess I’ll talk to you later Shikamaru. And make sure you get that one gash checked out later.” You waved and left with the medical ninja before Shikamaru could say anything else.

 That day was full of horrors in the medical building. To say that it didn’t have an effect on you would be a lie, but you made sure to be calm and collected, just like your mother had taught you. By the end of the day, you were exhausted and had expended most of your chakra. It was dark by the time you began to stumble home. One of the medical ninjas offered to walk you home but you told him to stay with the patients and that you were fine. You weren’t. On top of the physical exhaustion, you were also emotionally exhausted. There were so many wounded shinobi in the hospital, more than you had ever seen before. You watched many of them die because you couldn’t do anything to save them. All of the sudden your foot caught on a crack in the pavement and you prepared yourself to faceplant onto the concrete. The impact never came. Instead, a pair of hands grabbed your hips and hoisted you onto your feet. “That was close,” Shikamaru said as you steadied yourself.

 “Thanks.” You mumbled.

 “Let me walk you home.” He offered and let you lean against him. “Looks like it’s you who’s used all your chakra this time.”

 “Yeah. I’ve been at the hospital until now.” You leaned farther into Shikamaru, too tired to even talk.

 “Let’s get you home. You look like you could collapse any minute now.” You grunted in reply and pointed out where you lived. Once you got home, your father would most likely be livid. But for now, all you cared about was sleeping.

 There was a dark figure waiting at your door once you arrived. It was the Hokage. Shikamaru was practically holding you up by the time you made it to the waiting Hokage. “Lord Hokage.” Shikamaru greeted and the Hokage replied with a nod.

 “(Y/N),” The Hokage began, his face grim. “Your father died during the battle.” You stared blankly at the Hokage, not comprehending what he said. “He fought bravely against Orochimaru’s forces.”

 “Please take me inside Shikamaru.” You whispered while looking at the ground, tears gathering in your eyes. The Hokage stepped aside and let you through. Silently, Shikamaru brought you inside the house and was about to say something when you interrupted him. “Please leave.” You walked into your room before you could hear his reply. As soon as the door closed you slid down it and sat on the floor, too tired and too distraught to move anywhere else. By now, the tears began to fall. He was dead. And you had the nerve to argue with him just before a battle and not apologize. Now you could never apologize. In between your sobs, you head a sigh from the other side of your bedroom door. It was Shikamaru.

 “You know it’s a drag to be by yourself at times like these.” He said gently through the door. You didn’t reply. “If you want you could stay at my place for a while. We have a nice guest bedroom and I'm sure my mom and dad would be happy to have you stay with us.” The words mom and dad made you cry even harder, but you slowly slid away from the door and cracked it open. An invitation. Shikamaru entered and sat down beside you. For the rest of that night, he stayed sitting beside you in silence until you fell asleep.

 ______

 You stirred from your sleep, waking from your dream. Sighing you wiped away your tears. Even though the events of Orochimaru’s attack led to the death of your father and other Leaf Shinobi, it was also the cause of the ten-year relationship that had formed between you and Shikamaru. You accepted his offer and moved in with him and his parents. It was odd at first, but in a good way. It was the first time you had a mother figure since yours had died and eventually, they both became replacement parents to you. Smiling at the thought you stretched and noticed that the bed beside you was empty. There was a note on the side table.

 (Y/N),

I'm going out for a while. Maybe we can go out for a nice dinner once I get home. Rest up because I have a fun night planned. Love you, Sweetheart.

Love, Shikamaru

 You smiled at the note. It was always nice when Shikamaru planned stuff for the two of you to do. You loved lazing around with him, but it was extra special for you when he actually planned things. Getting out of bed, you decided that before you went out with Shikamaru you would visit your mother and father’s grave. Throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweater, you headed out the door making sure to grab your scarf as you left.

 The streets were relatively empty as you made your way to the cemetery, most likely due to the chilling breeze that was sweeping through the streets, and the fact that the sun was setting. You pulled your scarf tighter and quickened your pace. The cemetery wasn’t far from your house, so you made it there quickly. You made your way through the gate and headed towards your father’s grave but stopped when you noticed a figure standing at the grave you wanted to visit. You hid behind a tree. It was Shikamaru. His hand was deep in his pocket as he stood in front of the grave with a bouquet of flowers in his free hand. Shikamaru set them on the grave and began to talk.

 “Hey, Mr. (Y/L/N).” He began, “I have a question to ask you. It’s a drag because I wish I could’ve asked you in person but I'm sure you’re listening right now. It’s about your daughter (Y/N). You see, we’ve been together for ten years now, and they’ve been the best years of my life.” You stood silently as you listened to what he was telling your father. “(Y/N) is the most amazing woman and I'm so lucky to have her. I know that your death broke her in a way but a little piece of me is happy that things turned out this way. You gave me the chance to help her through your death and become closer to her so thank you for that. But I guess I should really stop rambling and get to the question part. So, like I said before, (Y/N) and I have been together for a long time now and I think it’s finally time for me to pop the question. So, I wanted to ask you if I could have your daughters hand in marriage.” You covered your mouth to stifle a sob. This was why he had planned something. A strong gust of wind blew, and you watched as a perfect circle of leaves blew past Shikamaru. “I’ll take that as a yes then.” You tried to hide behind the tree when Shikamaru turned to leave but you weren’t fast enough. “(Y/N)?” He questioned. Tears fell as you ran to him and threw your arms around his neck. “So much for my elaborately planned proposal. What a drag.” He said with a quiet laugh as he held you. Shikamaru let you go and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blue box. Getting down on one knee, he opened the box and presented a ring to you. It was beautifully simple; a silver band with three small diamonds encrusted into the ring.

 “(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” He said, looking up at you. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

 “Yes!” You cried with a laugh. “A thousand times yes.” Shikamaru slid the ring onto your finger and stood up.

 “I love you, (Y/N),” Shikamaru said and wiped away your tears. Laughing, you kissed him deeply.

 “I can’t believe that were getting married!” You said excitedly as you jumped up and down. Shikamaru laughed.

 “Well, we still have reservations at our favourite restaurant, so we’d better go and get ready.” Shikamaru took your hand and led you out of the graveyard. You briefly looked back at your father’s grave. I wish you could be here to walk me down the aisle dad. Another breeze blew through Konoha and you could’ve sworn you heard your fathers voice.

 I’ll always be with you.

[okayjokesover]

can i just. okay. so this has been stressing me literally since last night to the point where my whole body is hurting and i think i kinda need to put something out there

(i hid this behind a read more bc like...some of you are not here for my shit and you don’t need to read this, it’s fine. it’s depression/self harm mentioning, jsyk. also please don’t reblog this, i don’t need everyone telling me what a terrible trash white person i am and i genuinely don’t want commentary, i’ve already been crying on and off all day)

so yesterday right before i went to bed i saw a ~call out post come up about sylvia plath, which, yeah, she’s kinda problematic but who amongst dead faves and actually even alive ones isn’t, but it was very much a “if you still support her you’re trash, stop defending her racism white people” (she is famously extremely dead, so “supporting her” is a weird term but whatever), which...idk, it upset me a lot, because can i tell you about the bell jar?

i first read the bell jar when i was about 17, and in what i would now probably consider a Bad Depression. it is the only time in my life i’ve actually hurt myself because i was so frustrated and sad and an adrenalin rush is better than feeling nothing at all, except i didn’t really realise that’s what it was because depression to me meant the several times i had to spend recess at school talking one of my friends down from a suicide attempt over the phone, not just that i felt like nothing was okay and maybe i was just going to be a failure for the rest of my life because my undiagnosed ADHD ass was being forced to deal with deadlines and exams that actually had consequences for the first time with no help, because it’s probably just that i’m lazy and not trying hard enough right? also i was friends with a lot of smart people who found school easy, so it seemed like i really was just a dummy who’d managed to cover it well up until then, and i didn’t actually want to DIE, so it wasn’t like...proper depression (strong work there, teenage me.) it was a Not Good year, and it seemed like that’s just how things would be now, i would fail everything and my life would be a huge black hole of nothingness. and then i read this book (ironically i was reading a lot of depression related fiction at the time), and it felt CALMING, like “you know this happens to other people right, the constant tiredness and the nothingness”, and even more so, that there could be an END to it, like not in a “everything will be fixed” way, but like...at some point the bell jar will lift and you won’t feel so hopeless at all times. it was like someone holding out a hand and assuring me i could get through this.

after that it became my go to reading when i felt sad and desperate, which sounds weird because it’s a bit of a grim book, but i guess we can’t choose our media imprinting decisions right. it was what got me through two o-weeks when i first moved away to uni (especially the second one, where i spent most of it hiding in my room reading and crying because o-week is all socialising and i was SO TIRED every time i had to go and make small talk with people and it made me feel defective), and it was one of the only books i took with me when i moved overseas for a semester, because i knew i’d have some time when i didn’t have anyone i was close with to talk to and i was going to need reassurance that it would pass. i still re-read it about once a year because sometimes reminding myself it was there when i needed it and that it’s one of the things that got me through my late teens-early twenties is a thing i need as someone now in their thirties, i guess?

look. i get it, some of her views are really questionable in a modern climate (not in any way an excuse, i’m not defending her shitty views here), and i definitely see why people might not want to read her stuff. it’s fine! do people know we can all actually choose which media we consume? possibly not! i also didn’t study her at school, so it was never forced on me, so maybe my take is very different, and i also realise as a white person i am not in a position to tell people affected by it not to be upset. i’m definitely not doing that; be upset! but possibly, idk, consider the fact that maybe it isn’t completely black and white for everyone, and that if we only appreciated the most ideologically pure and woke artists there would be virtually no one left to enjoy. everyone has done some shit, man! allen ginsberg is my fave beat poet; i fucking know from problematic faves, u know? and trust me, if sylvia was alive now and STILL pulling that shit when she could easily be a LOT more woke, i would be going scorched earth on her ass. however; she is dead, and we can’t change the canon she has left behind, but we CAN view parts of it under a critical lens and understand why it’s problematic while still appreciating the parts that are good and meaningful to people! it can go both ways guys! critical media analysis is wild like that!

idk. i wish i could not be affected by what judgemental no shades of grey tumblr says, but this is like...one of the ones where i can’t NOT be upset when someone tells me i’m a terrible person because a piece of work by someone with some questionable views was/is a big part of my life and helped me, idk, get through a really hard time which i wasn’t sure i would get through, and because i’m not immediately burning all my plath books i’m agreeing with her racist shit.

god it’s so dumb how much energy i’ve expended on this since last night, like i was crying the whole time i was writing this, and i’ve been really on edge and about to cry all day at work, which has fucked up my back (my most enduring background anxiety symptom now that the amitriptyline stops me puking: back pain! not just the herniated discs, i get a feeling like someone’s trying to pull my shoulder blades off whenever i’m a bit tuning fork-y, so usually the week before i travel) aaaaaand...yeah, i’m real mad about it bc it stirred up a lot of shit i don’t really like thinking about but also haha human emotions, the fucking worst amirite?

alright i just needed to get this out of my brain before i stewed on it for another day, i’m being ridiculous and probably no one read this but ughhhhhh i do feel slightly cleansed? like i got all my crying i’d been bottling up today done! thank fuck! maybe tomorrow my brain will chill now that i’m not turning this over and over all day!