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cy-cyborg · 6 months ago

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Tags from @richie-is-rich

#*unless the wound hasnt healed properly #foolish stop telling people such black and white shit

Firstly, i did acknowledge that:

#there are exceptions of course but there are very few reasons for your oc who lost their arm 10 years ago to still be bandageing it

And pointed to where you can see a longer, more in-depth post i made about this very subject

#i have a longer post about this if you want to know more - its one of the first posts on this account

However, this post is not talking about irl amputees. Thats why i said "amputee characters". It's referancing a specific visual trope in media of people being so uncomfrtable around bodies like my own that they feel they need to cover them in their art. I've been a double leg amputee since 1997, i spent my childhood being told by the adults in my life that i wasn't allowed to wear shorts or anything that didn't cover my legs entirely becuase the sight of my stumps would make my peers cry. Parents put in complaints about me to my school for allowing me to show off my "disturbing deformaties" to other children a.k.a just existing in front of them. This was at the expense of my own health mind you, i lived in a part of australia where our summers averaged in the 40C but i was forced to wear winter clothing. I was sent home with heatstroke several times, all because other people were uncomfortable with my body and thought it should be covered, no matter the risks to my own health.

As an adult i worked on disability awareness programs for children, and at least once a week, i would have a young child start crying when they saw my legs becuase they were expecting to see blood or "something scary", because all the media aimed at kids with characters like me has shown us with bandages or just avoided showing our stumps at all, so why would they assume any different? They all quickly calm down when they realise its not the case, but fuck man, your very presence making children cry because of what they've seen in media is not a good experience to have regularly.

Today, i can't even show myself putting my prosthetics on/taking them off/not wearing them on videos on youtube shorts or tik tok because they get reported as "inappropriate content" and taken down if my legs aren't covered. When i was making educational content about my disabilities on Tik Tok, i very frequently had people comment to tell me that they found amputees "disturbing to look at" and that they were glad my videos were taken down because "kids should't be exposed to that".

This experience isn't unique to me either. For most of my teens/early 20's, i worked with other amputees, including new amputees. People fresh out of hospital and learning how to readjust. I helped them learn to use their prosthetics, told them how to access services, helped them find community, all that shit. And without fail, even those with fully healed stumps would be told at some point that they should cover up and that their legs/arms were gross and disgusting. I've supported amputee teens through eating disorders they developed in part, because they felt they had to "make up" for their gross arms/legs to be pretty. Ive had to sit a group of teenagers down to explain to them what stump fetishizers are, and how they will use that insecurity to get "content" from them by essentially negging them, ("everyone else thinks you're gross, but i don't" - something I also experienced as a teen), and they often get away with it because these kids have never seen bodies like theirs portrayed positively or even neutrally, and they think this is the only way they can be loved or seen as attractive.

I know there are exceptions to the advice i gave. More than just incorrectly healing wounds, burns, gangrene, sepsis, some animal attack wounds, all slow that down. I was one of the exceptions. I had meningococcal septicemia, i was wearing bandages for almost a year post-amputation. But that's not what's going on 99% of the time when someone draws their OC with an amputated arm covered in bandages, or a amputee character from a piece of media where their limb canonically heals fine. They do it because they're uncomfortable with us, or uneducated about the disabilities they're depicting and never thought to double check the trope, which just further perpetuates it.

I realise as a "sevearly burned out nurse" you have likely seen the worst of the worst and this kind of oversimplification can be frustrating. I mean that genuinly. But please understand this is coming from one of the exceptions who this trope hurt. A lot. And who has seen other people in my community get hurt by it. Over and over and over again. I would rather folks like myself, who took a little longer to heal, be overlooked in a very very short, simplified post, than to continue to ignore a very prevalent trope that hurts all amputees. Taking longer to heal is temporary. The way these tropes impact our community can be permanent.

and don't get me wrong, that context is important. That's why the vast majority of my content about disability tropes is very long and does explain, in a lot of depth, the exceptions and what context they might show up in, as well as how to use those exceptions to the rule in ways that aren't harmful where it's applicable. But these simplified, short posts have their place as well. I have covered this exact topic before and did explain the exceptions. It took me days to write. Ive done it twice, actually. Once on this account, and once on a previous account. Im planning to do it again soon, because ive learned more about where the misconceptions and misunderstandings stem from, and how to mote clearly address them. But there's a reason you saw this short, simplified post and not the longer ones I spend days on.

Just a reminder that unless your amputee character lost their limb less than a month ago, their stumps don't need to be bandaged.

#tw: ableism #disability #disabled #disability representation #amputee character #amputee representation

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flowersofjannah · 3 years ago

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salaam again sis it's me! again, appreciate your beautiful response and i do feel that i can confide in u even if it's on anon rn. honestly, i feel that after the uni guy situation im not so sure if i can trust myself/ my gut or any signs with if someone is the one, anymore. this upsets me as with the uni guy, he brought a strange sense of calmness and familiarity i hadnt felt before so naturally having accounted for that and other strange things i felt he was definitely the one. now that he's obviously married to someone else and things didnt work out even after i ensured to do things halal way from the outset, i cant help but doubt my choices - i had never been like this before but the uni guy situation has made me v wary about believing my gut when it comes to if a man feels like he might be the 'one'. hehe im glad ive found someone similar to me ^-^ i pray Allah also grants u someone who he thinks is best for you iA, u have such a pure soul sis. wrt the ring so i checked this v quickly and i believe he wasnt wearing a ring - actually i first checked this to be sure before letting my interest develop. if i saw a ring i wouldve shut down these thoughts there and then but ive been told that not all muslim married men wear rings so i dont want to become too hopeful just on this basis. i guess i'll see what happens on monday iA and if, like this week, Allah makes me encounter him this week etc too. it's strange bc i started noticing him since last week more even though ive been working at this place now for 2 months or so. i was talking to Allah about it and how i hope he doesnt come by the next day as i felt that i was thinking about him too much, then funnily the morning after he was the first person i saw and spoke to for the first time (just to ask if a room was free but still, i guess he knows i exist now lol), then even the day after i saw him twice. i saw him again before leaving on friday and ngl i did feel a little jealous when i saw him next to this other lady, and when i came by he didnt look up once. im sure he's not interested in me at all. he does seem veryyyy focused on just getting the work done, which is typical in the setting im in but i guess that's what i like about him from what ive observed. unlike a lot of (muslim) men here who talk unnecessarily to opp gender/ too much - he seems quite to the point and sort of goes off doing his own thing quietly. i've also seen him in the prayer room once before but that's all ik about his religious side. again, just to remind u he hasnt done anything specifically towards me to indicate he's eeven interested in me in the slightest. he probably just sees me as a new trainee who's started her first job and thats it, if he even remmebers me at all. anyway, im trying to be open about how things go either way iA but ive always hated being noticed/ talking to get noticed esp about things like these so idk if ill be able to build the courage to do so. i guess i still have a back up which is to ask the mutual colleague when theyre back in january - but from what ik this colleague doesnt know much about him either unfortunately and funnily the guy didnt even remember the mutual colleague even after a few encounters/ months of the colleague having worked there so idk. guess i just want my heart to be content with whatever at this stage. i really just hope to end up with a mature, loyal, calm, God-conscious man someday when Allah thinks best iA. I hope i'll be able to recognise him, and him, me

Wa 'alaykum assalam <3

Tbh sis, sometimes you don’t recognize “the one” from the start. I’ve heard multiple stories where people thought it wouldn’t work out and then they get married. My cousin is one of them, she wasn’t attracted to her now husband (I mean she didn’t think of him ugly, she just wasn’t inclined towards him i guess is a better choice of words) nor find him interesting in the first few talks, but the interest and all developed gradually. So you never know how he’ll come.

Do what you’re comfortable sis, either way if he’s for you, you’ll find him in front of you someday. If you wish to take a chance, go for it. If you don’t wish to and wish to take time to see how you feel/how he is, that’s fine too! See how you feel after istikhara about him and what happens, in sha Allah you'll get clarity.

I totally get your not trusting the intuition part, I feel that for myself also. I pray Allah gives you a kind, respectful, grateful man who only has eyes for you and will hold your hand all the way into janna. Someone who takes his deep seriously and will take great care of you with a heart of love, mercy, and compassion towards you, allahumma ameen.

I appreciate your updates sis, and I love the length of them. I love how you pour all of your thoughts out. I appreciate you talking to me. You’re so sweet 💗

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hanasnx · 2 years ago

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hello i have not stopped thinking about this ask it pops into my head periodically and i WISH they’d elaborated.

for now, here’s what my mind has cooked up:

since its an au i wanna take some creative liberties :)

(not my images, got them from pinterest, i only edited the colors)

☥ fuckboy ish to an extent. hes cocky but the only reason he has experience is cos when he was a shy baby-faced sweetie pie, women with a corruption kink flocked to him. he’d find himself in all sorts of compromising positions bcos girls would invite him over to “watch a movie” and then next thing he knew his hand was groping her chest and she was tugging him on top of her.

he gets confident. who wouldnt be instilled with an injection of fuckboy-ery when pretty girls would beg to sit on his cock all the time? compare hand sizes? steal his hoodies? ask him to “comfort” them after their loser ex cheats on them again?? and comfort them he did 😏

☥ ive been staring a lot at scott barringer from higher ground to remind me of hayden’s golden curls that fratboy!anakin would def body in this au

ref:

and later on in college he grows his hair out this kinda style:

😵‍💫😵‍💫iiiii

☥ i think he’d fall into the popular crowd— like look at him. he looks like the guy people would just be attracted to. hes magnetic. he’s absorbed into a friend group, a clique. his frat would love him, he’d be the life of the party once he got comfortable bcos anakin loves attention. especially praise when he jumps off a balcony into a pool

☥ i feel like he’s so trustworthy to girls, he seems like the type women want to be friends with cos he just looks so soft! a good cuddler! corruptible😈! like he wouldnt spring a kiss on you out of nowhere or put something in your drink. a gentle giant cos lord knows at 6’2 he towers over most

☥ he’d listen to chill “mumble” music . lowkey bumps. “all mine” by brent faiyaz, “feelz” by lil peep. also “fuck about it” by waterparks would be turned all the way up in his car. prolly the neighborhood (fuck jesse rutherford tho whatever his name is), the weeknd, cigarettes after sex too

☥ hed def still smoke. at first i thought vape cos its more modern but like

self explanatory

☥ he’d be such a little shit istg. if hes flirting with you youll know bcos he purposely tries to annoy you. his flirting skills would consist of “party too hard last night, champ?”

he’d do shit to get you to punch him. thats how he knows hes in the sweet spot. “felt like a gust of wind. come with me next time i hit the gym.”

☥ the way he’d bring up the size difference… like even if youre taller than average, chances are hes taller. chances are hes bigger. fusdfkjsdc he’d remind you.

“so short, can you even reach my neck? put your arms up.” you fall for his trick and humor him, raising your arms above your head and his stupid ass pokes at your exposed sides making you cry out from the tickle KLDFJ

☥ def pick you up “youre so light!” pretends to curl you like a weight. if you tell him to put you down and theres not enough seriousness behind it, he’ll start tossing you up in the air to catch you

“ani! ani!” you shriek with a tone he recognizes as delight. he continues to toss you up and catch you, reveling in the way you clutch onto him

☥ i feel like since most of the time he hasnt had to do any real work to get a girlfriend or get laid, he doesnt really know how to get with you. he doesn’t like the advice his buddies give him.

which explains his childish approach in trying to get your attention.

he’d ask to borrow a pencil or a piece of paper from you all the time. scooch into the seat next to you “what are we on today, killer?”

“siberia.”

“you got the notes?”

☥ the hoodies. the backwards caps😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 fuck me

edit:

imagine frat boy ani ,,,

hi darling i actually implore you to elaborate on this idea cos i have a hard time imagining ani as anything other than my toxic sack of cringy loser and i protect that with my life.

is frat boy ani popular? charismatic? good with women?

or is he just mindless? jumps off the balcony to canon ball into the pool for clout? keg stands just cos?

please tell me what you mean by frat boi ani i’d love to know 💕💕💕

#anon #thanks for the msg!!#indy shoots the shit #fratboy!anakin #anakin #star wars #au #au!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #reader insert #size difference #x y/n #x gn!reader #sw #the clone wars #tcw

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writerman · 6 years ago

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Modern elronbarduil. Bard is a cab driver, Thran is a the CEO of his own company, who just happens to be blind, and Elrond is an ER doctor. Now Thran some how gets injures at work but instead of call an ambulance, he calls a cab because he doesn't want to make a fuss. Bard is the cab driver and is worried about Thran, so offers to help get him inside the hospital and stays with him. Elrond is the doctor attending Thran.

//I am sorry but I didn’t make Thranduil blind in this one. I did, however, have a lot of fun writing this so this is where my confidence crashes and burns because now the world wide web get to read it... or ignore it ahahaha.

Enjoy, friendo!

THIS IS THE LONGEST PROMPT I’VE WRITTEN TO DATE!

Honestly, Bard had not expected his first fare of the afternoon to be a man bleeding from the temple, a well dressed, suited and booted kind of high flying exec kind of man… He was really bleeding, and from the rear view mirror he could not quite see where the blood was coming from but it ran down the man’s face with ease and dripped onto the grey suit he wore steadily.

“Uh… I know you’re not ok but are you ok?” Bard asked turning round to look at his customer properly, the guy was beautiful, angel fallen from Heaven masquerading as a man, beautiful.

Long straight blond hair, nearly white, piercing blue eyes and flawless skin, a jaw that could cut glass and all those other analogies that described the classic beauty of men.

Pale as milk though, either he had been bleeding for quite some time or he did NOT like the sight of blood, either way it was concerning.

The blond looked startled when Bard spoke, as though he had expected the cab to be self driven rather than by a flesh and blood human with thoughts and feelings. He lifted his hand to touch the blood and it smeared over his fingers staining the pale skin easily, all the while nodding slowly as though this was common place and he bled all the time from the head.

“So… Where do you need to go?” His whole body felt tense, this kind of felt like one of those scenes from a movie where he is infected by a virus and becomes a zombie because he just HAD to help the pretty one.

That’s how they get you, the zombies, they show up being pretty humans all the while the virus is working through them and suddenly you turn around to check on your passenger and BAM Zombie time and you’re dead.

He reeeeally hoped this guys asked for a doctor or a ride to the hospital because, damn, he was losing blood like no tomorrow.

Bard made the executive decision that he was taking the man to the hospital regardless and put the car in motion, not explaining his actions though he realised he was not asked any questions, or given any instructions… it was then Bard realised that the guy must have been in shock.

Once at the hospital Bard parked up, threw some money in a parking meter and eased the silent, still bleeding, man from the car, he spoke softly as if to keep this blond stranger at ease, as though he was some kind of easily spooked horse.

He looked like he owned horses, like 10 of them and had a son called Tarquin and they placed croquet on the lawn of their massive mansion.

Probably had house staff too.

Bard realised that was unfair, just because he wore a nice suit didn’t mean anything, he had a nice suit too, it was reserved for funerals and weddings, he had one and only one and when he wore it people thought he was important too, and not a cab driver in a city where his face blurred together with thousands of other brunet men with beards….

Further problems arose when he tried to check the man in to see a doctor, he had no idea what his name was, or even some semblance of an address, he barely registered the street he had been on when the blond had climbed into the car.

So far the only thing that had shown Bard the guy was aware of anything was when he nodded earlier, and he was sure that was just an automatic response to the question ‘Are you ok?’, because most people nod when asked that question.

Apparently standing at the reception of a hospital was good luck because a doctor ran towards them yelling something that was probably a name, ah, yes it was a name.

“Thranduil, oh Gods, what happened to you?!” This doctor was handsome, did beautiful people just attract other beautiful people, was this a cult?

While Bard stared at the two of them in bisexual, the brunet doctor that had jogged toward them turned to Bard for an explanation, and all Bard could do, and he did it so eloquently, was shrug.

“He got into my cab just bleeding like crazy from the head, he hasn’t spoken a word so I thought I would just bring him here…”

“You did the right thing, I will take things from here, thank you for your caring for him-” He was cut off as he tried to lead Thranduil off, the blond reached out and grabbed Bard by the wrist and would not move until he did.

“Ah, it seems you are coming with us, even in shock he recognises a catch when he sees one.” Inappropriate time to flirt when his friend was just stood silently bleeding like some kind of silent haunted house actor…

Were they friends?

Still, someone thought he was handsome, even though they both looked like Gods walking the earth amongst mere mortal men. Bard realised he had to take what he could get, even if it was a fleeting flirting opportunity from a doctor.

Before he could speak Thranduil, weirdly nice name, tugged at Bard and pulled him closer to his side, he slung his arm over his shoulder before his legs gave way and both Bard and the handsome doctor moved to steady him.

“Maybe he needs to sit down…?” Bard suggested and the doctor, who had the humility to look embarrassed, nodded and steered the weakening man toward a private room.

Thranduil was put on a bed and the doctor, who finally introduced himself a Elrond Peredhel, saw to the wound, he explained that wound was not deep but were it was situated was causing the blood to flow easily, the skin on the scalp was thinner he said.

Bard had no idea about any of this stuff so he just nodded.

“This man is not supposed to be working, this man is meant to be on bedrest.” Elrond quipped, the dig at his patience apparently brought him back to himself and Thranduil managed to roll his eyes, he looked to Bard and gave a soft smile.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his voice so damned deep and velvety and amazing, oh man, Bard needed to sit down after two words. He pulled himself round long enough to pull a chair up to the bedside and sit by the blond.

“I admit, you scared me back there in the taxi being all silent and bloody, I had visions of you trying to slit my throat or something.” It was a ridiculous thing to say and he regretted saying it instantly but the sound of Thranduil’s quiet laugh eased his insecurities for a moment.

The blond winced as though laughing hurt him, and Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder to soothe him as he worked on cleaning the wound, some of Thranduil’s hair was now stained red from the blood, but he did not seem to care all that much, or he hadn’t realised.

“I owe you so much, I could not speak and yet you brought me right where I need to be with who I need to be with.” Elrond and Thranduil shared a loving smile between them and Bard put the pieces together.

Husbands. Probably.

Well, they had flirted with him so they seemed relaxed so maybe very long time husbands?

Not that it mattered.

“Also thought you might have been a zombie.” Bard admitted quietly, which had Thranduil laughing again, and Gods it went right to his centre.

He suppressed a pleasant shudder, ignoring Elrond's knowing look.

“A zombie only before his morning coffee,” The doctor started, he rested a hand on Thranduil's shoulder before he spoke again, “Did you just swoon?”

This time Bard was the one to have the decency to blush and look away from the two.

"Ah, I thought so, he has that effect on everyone. Though so far you are the only one sensible enough to grab a chair and to respect that he may be in a relationship.

It's alright, you can flirt with him.

You can flirt with both of us."

Well, that was… interesting. So far Elrond had been quite vocal about his interest in Bard but Thranduil hadn’t said anything, and Bard was not sure it was alright for Elrond, even if he was married to the blond, to just offer the others affections so easily.

While in thought the two took the opportunity to whisper between themselves, some sort of debate, Bard wasn’t actually listening.

Eventually he made the decision that it was time for him to go. He had to earn a wage and sitting around in a hospital was losing him rent money for the month.

“Now that I know you’re alright I should probably go. I still have a job to do and while I do not necessarily have a boss I still need to make sure I make enough that I don’t have to work too late tonight.

It was great meeting you both even given the circumstances.

I hope you manage to keep him on bedrest this time.” Bard looked to Elrond as he said the last part and he got to his feet ready to depart.

“Thank you, again for bringing him here. I truly hope we meet again.” Elrond spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster without it sounding as though he was mocking Bard.

With that they parted ways.

It was a month after that Bard saw the two again.

He had been playing a zombie apocalypse game while the car idled at the side of the road, there didn't seem to be much foot traffic where he had parked up so he took the chance to try and level up his mobile game.

When the door opened behind his seat and someone slid in he paid them no mind, he was going to wait until they'd settled before he gave them any attention, that was until…

A pair of hands slid to his shoulders and squeezed almost pinching him.

Then a rumbling voice in his ear spoke.

“Still hoping for zombies, are we?” The tone amused and, dammit, the shiver that spiked down Bard's spine… the hairs on his arms stood on end and his heart beat leapt to a pace faster than he believed ever possible.

“Thranduil, leave him alone, he looks like he might have a heart attack.” Oh, yeah, it was definitely the dream duo he had absolutely NOT been thinking about since they first met… Elrond Peredhel and his husband Thranduil.

Two fantastically beautiful men that had taken a shine to Bard as though he wasn’t some grimy cab driver with untamed curls and bags under his eyes that could fill a baggage claim at Heathrow.

Doing his best to calm himself before he looked round, he sighed inwardly when the blond let go of his shoulders to sit back in his seat, Bard took a cleansing breath as quietly as he could and turned to offer the couple a bright smile.

“Well, hello, you two. Long time no see… so, where am I taking you tonight?” It was 6pm and the sun was sinking behind the high rise buildings around them- the night would come alive soon enough and Bard actually wanted to get home before any party-goers tried to hail him for a ride.

“Well, we were just going to go home but maybe coffee first, we’d love it if you could join us?” Elrond slid an arm around Thranduil’s shoulders as he spoke and pulled him so they were right up against one another side by side, their shoulders right down to their feet touching down one side.

“Uh… well, I was just going to go home after this fare…” Bard trailed off at the, frankly sorrowful, disappointed look he was given from both of them, so rather than argue he just nodded. “Alright, where would you like to go?”

They ended up in a small coffee shop, it advertised that it was open all night long and so far it was fairly quiet, Bard suspected the usuals that haunted the place would show up at the wee hours of the morning, sporting smudge make-up, tousled hair from brief intimate encounters and being more than just hungover as they sipped hot coffee full of sugar and cream before they could even begin to think of heading home…

It seemed like a trendy spot, Thranduil and Elrond stood out like peacocks against the vintage surroundings in their crisp fitted shirts and, what was probably, ridiculously expensive slacks and boots.

Smart casual.

Yet they looked across as Bard as though hungry hyenas and he was dinner for the night.

Hadn’t they just eaten?

“You don’t have to look so scared of us, but… we did have a proposition for you if you would be so kind as to allow us a moment to explain?” Thranduil began, he picked up a drinks menu from off the table in front of him and perused it casually, his eyes flitting to Bard occasionally and he offered a very sultry smile.

Bard felt nervous, like a bug near a venus fly trap but he was also a little hot under the collar, he didn’t image a look could ever have that effect on him but… well… there he was flushed.

The ye olde expression of ‘Mark me down as scared and horny…’.

“I’ll cut to the chase, let you breathe a little afterwards. We like you Bard,” Elrond began, he waved away a waitress that approached with a genuine smile before turning back to Bard. “We are a couple but we were hoping your interest in us was not solely a fanciful day dream. Thranduil and I would like to take you out and, perhaps with time, you would accept us, even love us and let our duo become a trio?” There was a long pause after Elrond said his peace and so Thranduil and he ordered drinks, and after a moment coaxed an order out of Bard.

He felt as though a hurricane had rushed over him and he was left windswept and out of breath.

Were they suggesting a three way relationship?

He had to admit, and admit it very quietly, even in his own head, that he had thought about that would be like… they seemed fun and flirty, but what were they like behind closed doors?

He didn’t feel threatened by them or actually afraid, and gods, he had seen the look of love they had shared between them back at the hospital.

Could that be him?

“I want to get to know you both better.” The words blurted out, his mouth and brain had not discussed this and yet there he was talking, all the while his brain is in disarray ‘We talked about this mouth, you have to run things by me first!’ but again his mouth ignored his brain and he spoke again.

“I am interested in both of you, I want to try this.”

All hope was lost for his mouth and his brain logged out for the rest of the evening.

With his acceptance of the couple, Elrond and Thranduil moved to sit next to him, one on each side, they wrapped their arms around him and welcomed him in to the fold.

“We shall show you a good time, so much so that you could not imagine being without us, let us love you.”

...and so, he did.

#long post #thranduil #bard the bowman #barduil #bard #elbaruil #elrond #the hobbit #writing prompts #writing #mypackpride

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theharellan · 6 years ago

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Was it Only a Kiss?

repost of a thread from @theshirallen‘s old blog. set a week or so after their arrival at skyhold, solas approaches ian with the intent to bring up the kiss they had shared on the evening of corypheus’s attack on haven.

unfinished. updates will post in the thread tag.

Solas

A week had passed since they had come to Skyhold. Slowly, the debris had been cleared from the main hall and repairs were begun. All around him were the sounds of work. At first it began with bent backs and physical toil, and he watched as apprentice mages struggled to carry burdens magic might bear. When Solas first cleared the door to the rotunda with a gesture, matters changed. More mages gingerly coaxed a pile of rubble onto a tarp for others to haul it off with ease later, or drew dust from forgotten corners with a wave of their hands, rather than break their necks trying to reach with feather dusters. Suddenly, it was as if the mages had magic, rather than weapons.

The development was almost enough to distract him. It occupied him, yes, guiding unsure hands with a firm voice, but his eyes flickered towards the courtyard, towards the healing tents, often enough that week that he could not fool himself into forgetting. He had more that the path before them on his mind, something as terrifying as it was exciting. Someone that made him feel lighter, even on this side of the Veil, even at the mere sight of him.

Yet since arriving they had scarcely spoken, any conversation interrupted by Ian being called away by new stragglers finding Skyhold, whose need was far more urgent than Solas’s. The eagerness with which Ian took his leave made him second-guess himself, wondering if the affection he had felt in their kiss at Haven was a figment of his own imagination. This world offered no answers, the Veil drew heavy between them, and each coy word exchanged left him more exasperated, more eager for an answer.

A week, he decided, and a week he waits. ‘Til new arrivals trickle and the work slows, and Skyhold begins to look more like herself again.

On the seventh day, Solas finds himself glancing down towards the courtyard with more frequency than usual. When he spots Ian sitting idle, he wastes only enough time to brush anything that clings to the front of his sweater before he descends down towards the healing tents. His hands tangle together behind his back, feet brushing bare stone before they nestle upon worn grass. The path through the courtyard is already worn by soldiers’ boots, Solas leaves less of a mark on his path towards Ian.

The smell of pipeweed is in the air, freshly burned, and he feels almost guilty for interrupting a moment Ian no doubt stole for himself. It does not stop him, however, nor silence the gentle cough he clears his throat with to attract the other elf’s attention.

“Ian,” he began, a simple start he had debated to himself for days. To use his name, or something else… “Do you have a moment?”

Ian

The events that have transpired since the attack at Haven run together when he stops to think–a blur of cold winds and warm blood. Ian has seen little of the Inquisition’s new home since their arrival–indeed, has seen hardly anything besides the canvas spread of the healing tents and an occasional glance at a cloud-spattered sky. The stains on the backs of his hands, the way blood grits under his nails. Tired smiles on his patients faces–those that they’ve managed to help. The others…

He hasn’t seen much of Skyhold, yet. There is much to be done, and more every day.

He’s grateful, even through his weariness. That he is busy means that the Inquisition’s forces have survived, and he has always preferred the weariness that comes with tending the wounded than the heartache that accompanies tending to the dead.

The days blur together–the nights, too. Ian loses count of the sunrises, would fail to notice them save for the brilliant way the light mounts the ramparts to announce the coming day.

The urgency of his work begins to slow. Wounded arrive in straggling groups, and between their need he finds himself with time to sit, to breathe. Not to think. When he thinks, everything runs together in an unintelligible blur, and he remembers a clumsy kiss when the world had felt more certain.

Nothing feels certain, right now, and when he has time to think he considers the fool he’s made of himself. Solas has been busy–everyone has been so busy, but if Ian has time to breathe, that busy might have finally found itself a pace–but Ian knows it’s too much to hope the fool in him is forgotten. His heart tightens, fear and frets worrying about in his chest, and he tries to turn his thoughts.

A moment to himself, and he almost spends it letting his jumbled thoughts work him into tighter knots. Almost. He counts the seconds between his breaths, and pulls his pipe from the pouch at his hip, letting his eyes close when the smoke warms his lungs.

He tries to turn his thoughts, but he does not imagine the sound of his name. His heart–so recently calmed to a reasonable pace–leaps into his throat, and he can’t help the way he jumps, half-turning in his start, grateful he hadn’t been in the middle of an inhale.

“Solas!” Despite himself, he tries a smile. “You startled me.”

“I–” It feels desperate, the way his mind flies–trying to think of something, anything, to keep him from having to make a further fool of himself. Nothing occurs to him; there are no excuses to be made that do not ring as what they are. “Yes. A few moments, even.”

Solas

His ears flatten at the reaction: the smile that turns Ian’s lips, but does not crinkle the corner of his eyes, the beginning of a thought that does not end as it began, as if Solas had successfully cornered him. It is not an idea that settles well, and his stomach turns with nervousness. “If you would rather spend them alone, you will hear no further argument from me,” he says. “But we have scarcely spoken since we have arrived, and I confess, I have missed the sound of your voice.”

It is no idly spoken compliment, but the truth. Regardless of how his plans unfolded (and how often does everything fall neatly into place for him?) he will be grateful if something similar to the rapport they had before can be achieved. Solas steps several paces closer, hands hidden behind his back. “And it occurred to me– you likely have not had much time to see Skyhold. I remember you mentioned a garden in the Anderfels, and thought you might enjoy seeing what will become Skyhold’s.” The rubble had been cleared just a day ago, and no work has begun. It will be quiet, albeit overgrown, tangled from decades (centuries) of disuse, but he is confident Ian will see its potential.

Solas unclasps his hands, stretching one out towards Ian for him to take. Tugging him off the ground is like lifting a feather, and he tries not to imagine what would happen if he pulled Ian a few inches further towards him. He releases his hand, though the sensation lingers even in Ian’s absence. It flexes by his side absently, as his eyes lift towards the the entrance to the main hall, open for the first time in ages. “This way.”

His feet brush grass tips as he moves back the way he came, now with Ian at his side. His hands rediscover the spot behind the small of his back, and his mind rushes as everything he has been meaning to say hounds him at once.

Before another word leaves him, however, a question occurs to him: “How have you been?”

Ian

“No. I’ve–I’ve missed your company.”

He taps his pipe–nearly finished anyway–over to clear the ashes, tucking it away in his belt before gesturing, plaintively, for Solas to help him up.

Solas’s hand against his nearly stops Ian’s heart. He’s pulled to his feet and somehow loses his breath in the motion, a sudden swoop that lifts him beyond what heights he can reach on his own. Solas’s words simultaneously ease and agitate his fears–the lightness in his chest and head are disorienting, but he cannot help but take note of how quickly Solas releases his fingers.

“There’s a garden here?”

It’s an alluring thought–almost so much that he might forget how difficult it is to hear past the rushing in his ears. Those ears cant forward as he lengthens his step to bring him even with Solas.

“I–busy.” His ears fall again, and he grimaces. “I do not know if I can say I would rather I was not needed–I can better serve the wounded than the dead–but Haven…it’s been a very long time since…since I’ve seen…” Denerim, he thinks. The last real battle he’d been in. “But I have my health, yet. And my…my skills.”

Solas

Ian’s confession, soft though it may be, rekindles lost confidence. ‘Pride’ may be his name, but it is not blind pride. He is under no illusion that his company is universally pleasant, and if he were one moment spent with Sera will quickly rob him of that delusion. He smiles, gladder now than it was before, heart swelling foolishly. “Not a garden, but a potential one. Inquisitor Cadash expressed interest in using the space as such. For the moment it is still what nature made it.”

But most of all it is quiet, with less of a chance of prying ears hearing what he has to say. That is one thing he will miss about Haven, the snow always seemed to dampen the sound, and midnight chats were intimate even if someone slept in the hut beside them.

They pass banners freshly planted in the earth, Inquisition heraldry crowned with dwarven metal. A reminder, for any who try to forget the Herald is no human. “Haven was a terrible thing to live through,” he responds gravely. “And I fear it will not be the last battle before our goal is realised, but now that Corypheus has revealed himself he has lost the one edge he had in this fight. We will not be taken by surprise a second time.”

Skyhold’s doors welcome them, and as they enter a handful of faces turn briefly from their work to smile in greeting. The main hall still bears marks from an age of neglect, but light shines in from the windows upon the second floor. Yes, perhaps it highlights the cobwebs that persist, but it is not nearly as stifling as it felt a week ago. “I set up a workspace, should you find more time to spare in the days to come,” he says with a gesture to their right. The door is thrown open, inside a pile of debris is still shoved against the wall, but a desk has already been moved in. “It is rudimentary at the moment, when work on the main hall is finished I hope to do more with it.”

His arm sweeps around Ian’s shoulder, brushing them, guiding them to their left. The door to the gardens is still beaten and bent from the rocks that had been piled against the frame, but it opens with a gesture, magic greasing old hinges. “But this is what I wanted to show you…”

Beyond the door, a rudimentary path has been carved through rotted wood and crumbled stone, towards what will one day be a garden. From here he can see vines that have grown over the walls and up the columns that align the walkway, curling towards the heavens. Solas pauses, allowing Ian to pass through first.

Ian

He follows Solas, though his own strides gain less ground. Whether or not Solas notices, Ian is uncertain. He pauses as they turn, and Ian closes the distance even as he shies away from the rise of stone walls. Solas’s workspace is spacious, high reaching walls and a circling stair, but he feels it tightening his throat as he takes it in. Skyhold is still a castle, and her walls are thickly mortared, and he prefers the courtyard and the canvas tents to the stones that circle him now. With the doors flung wide, he hasn’t far to look to find relief, but it will take some adjustment before he can convincingly portray anything but ill ease.

Solas’s touch at his shoulder is gentle, and prevents his thoughts from wandering too far. Ian follows his gesture, forcing a steady breath through his teeth as magic wills an aged door to yield. Something akin to a path expands beyond the threshold, soft dirt sighing beneath Ian’s boots as he follows its wanderings. Solas hangs back, gesturing for Ian to step ahead, and Ian is glad to return to the mountain air and the feeling of sun on his skin. It has only been a matter of moments, but he turns his face upward to let the rays brush his cheeks before he truly attempts to take in the garden.

“Oh…” It isn’t quite an exclamation, isn’t quite a sigh. The utterance is one of quiet wonderment, though the garden is, as Solas had warned, more as nature has made it than anything. Dark vines wind up partially crumbled columns, broad leaves disguising the stone as though behind a curtain. Grasses burst in uneven, ambitious clumps, stretching to reclaim what had once been paved. Tiny, unruly wildflowers–weeds, refusing the confines of any recognizable sense of order–scatter the field, thickest where the sunlight splashes.

Ian’s fingers catch at his lips, and he can feel the stretch of his smile beneath them. He almost wishes that the Inquisition might leave this place untouched, though he knows that an organization will have to present a ‘proper’ garden, if a garden they have at all. “Oh…Thank you. For–for sharing this with me. I have–I have been so…thank you.”

Solas

From behind, Ian’s pleasure is still obvious. The tension that had coiled in narrow shoulders loosens, now, as though sinking into a bath. Unsatisfied with the view, Solas moves forward, drawing level with the other elf. The garden is spared only a passing glance. Lifted hands are not enough to disguise the smile that steals across his face, eyes crinkling at their corners. The sight coaxes an affectionate smile from Solas. “Ara melava son’ganem.” Elvhen comes to him first before he adds, in a quieter voice, “You’re welcome.”

With some effort, he tears his eyes away from Ian and onto the garden. It is different than he remembers, but few things in Skyhold are the same. Human stonework has claimed it, but still its elvhen origins linger in the air. He wonders what Ian sees, what colour the blue wildflowers are to him, what emotion he thinks of when he beholds them. It is tempting to ask, but he pushes through the temptation, knowing the answers will only distract.

He allows his hand to touch Ian’s arm in passing as he continues on into the untamed garden. “I remembered what you said about gardening in the Anderfels,” he begins. The break in the wall that should allow him to pass through has been blocked by a bush, and so, instead, he climbs over the pony wall that has kept back as much nature as it could. Some vines have stolen over it, brushes his toes as he swings one leg over, and then the other with a soft grunt. “Then I imagined what you could accomplish here, where the environment is not so unforgiving.”

Grasses bend in his passing, either through magic means or the weight of his feet. Through the weeds he spies stone benches whose seats have been stolen by ivy. He half-turns, under the pretense of seeing if Ian has followed, but truth be told he more wished to set eyes upon him again.

The pretense does not last long, his gaze lingers, and his smile broadens. “And I thought the wildflowers might find a companion in your face. It seems I was correct.”

Ian

Fingers brush the fabric of his sleeve, and something warm and cold thrills up his spine. He stills until the touch passes, holding his breath as if it might aid the moment’s endurance. The warmth that blossomed shifted, taking root behind his ribs. When he inhales, the world spins, just for a moment, until the touch has ended and Solas has braced himself against a wall, heaving himself over. Ian hesitates, hovering until Solas has cleared the wall before he follows. He pulls himself up, but doesn’t quite drop over to the other side, perching on the wall amongst the ivy, one knee hugged close to his chest.

“You–um.” Ian’s voice catches, and his hand rises again, lips trembling against his fingertips. His fingers curl, and he tries again. “I didn’t–you remembered.” He tries to recall precisely what he had said, knows it had been a passing comment. Hardly worth hearing, let alone committing to memory. It’s surprising, though not unpleasant. It leaves him off balance, heat rising across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks, and he ducks his head when Solas turns to watch him.

He’s still looking down when the compliment catches, and the heat in his face spreads until his ears burn too. He pulls his knee closer, toes curling within his boot. “Solas…” He tries to begin, but his voice rings of pleading, and he isn’t certain just what he is pleading for. Ian’s mind reels as he tries to reconcile the sensation of fingers at his arm and the unabashedly forward nature of Solas’s words with the silence that had persisted ever since arriving at Skyhold. There’s a certainty in his gut that competes with the fluttering in his chest–this sureness that Solas has brought him here to rebuff him against this hope that perhaps he has not. He doesn’t try to speak again, only shakes his head a little, eyes downcast until he sees little but the trailing ivy that creeps past his perch and the wild tufts of grass that meet the wall at its roots.

Solas

It isn’t the reaction he had hoped for, his name whispered against the wind. Yes, his cheeks grow red beneath the vallaslin that spans his face, but one can blush from shame as easily as they can flattery.

Solas looks down, penitent, though it is not an apology he gives shape with words, and so means nothing in this world. Once, it might have flooded the world around them with contrite thoughts, and the blue flowers might have turned white out of sympathy. Upon the wall, Ian seems to curl in upon himself, knee tucked against his seat upon the wall, back bent over his leg. It is a distressing sight, and the blood in his veins seems to sour. In the pit of his belly, anxiety coils, until it feels potent enough to melt his stomach lining.

He had been hoping to lead Ian in gently, like a bath ran too hot, but seeing him now, he reconsiders. Perhaps, for both their sakes, it is better he take the plunge.

“I do not idly forget moments shared with you,” he says, soft, but strong enough to carry. His chin lifts, the sun breaking the shadows on his face. He retraces his steps towards the wall, careful to follow the path he had carved a moment ago. There are moments spent with Ian that bring him shame to think about, now. Moments where he had looked at his face and was not quite sure if what he saw was an echo of what was, or else an illusion. Where what he sees now was not even considered.

He stops short of Ian, hand reaching out to place upon a column that has seen better days, its edges eaten by rain.

Haven feels close by at Ian’s side, even upon this side of the Veil, where it is still buried beneath a mountainside of snow. While Ian’s gaze is at his feet, Solas keeps his trained upon where their eyes ought to meet. He can feel his heartbeat in his fingers, but the ground beneath bare feet steadies him.

It has been seconds since he last spoke, but feels a lifetime before he opens his mouth to add: “I have not forgotten our kiss.”

Ian

Solas’s words are delivered gently, offered in a soft tone that almost sounds as an apology. But what has Solas to be sorry for, save–save that Ian’s worries are well-founded. He feels his shoulders fall, and swallows an apology of his own, knowing that the words will trip against his teeth and worsen the situation.

He hears Solas’s return, the pivot that carries him back across the garden until he stands just beyond the wall where Ian perches. Absently, he wonders just how he manages to hear the pace of bare feet and the soft yield of new grass when his own heartbeat thunders wildly within his skull. His face burns, and teeth drive into his lower lip as he forces himself to breathe past the worry that tightens his throat.

The next words spoken, however, startle his heartbeat still. Silence overwhelms the drumming in his ears, muffles its sensation in his chest, and despite his anxieties, he finds his gaze lifting, eyes wide behind his blush. “I–oh. Ah–” The words catch, stumbling as he’d feared–as he’d known–they would, and he bites his lip again, trying to rearrange his thoughts into something resembling coherence. “I thought, maybe–maybe you wanted to. Forget, I mean.”

Gloved fingers curl into the fabric of his trousers, thigh tight against his chest where he hugs his knee. He searches Solas’s face, unable to quite meet his eyes but seeking hints of Solas’s intention all the same. “I didn’t–um. I don’t…I had–had thought, maybe–but…but it’s alright. If you–I mean. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Solas

It isn’t until teeth drag over freckled lips that Solas realises he is staring. He jerks his gaze away, his own teeth mirroring Ian’s body language. Since their moment in Haven, he had found himself lapsing into a habit only reserved for deep contemplation, only it was not ancient tomes on his mind of late. “Wanted to?” he echoes, soft. “I doubt I could, even if I did.”

Perhaps part of him does. The sensible part, that does not judge with what he feels, but measures every action against a grander scheme. Words come to him, unbidden, the one that came them voice forgotten to him: ‘ I would sooner mistrust in calculations, particularly if no heart might temper their direction.’ It was not logic that led him down the path he walks now, but feelings. Feelings too potent to ignore.

“Had the night gone differently, perhaps I would have said this then, rather than now. Then again– it has given me time to think.” Were the world right, they might have had centuries, not months, to grow the seed they had unwittingly planted that day Ian had returned with questions, and not accusations. Adrenaline lights his blood aflame, as though the few steps over to Ian had been a marathon. One hand reaches out to the wall beside Ian, to hide how it tremors, and he allows his gaze to drop to watch it.

“I have seen centuries from the Fade, heroes and villains whose names are written in books across Thedas, but you…” His face is hot, cheeks mottling a unflattering pink, but he pays it no mind, eyes lifting to see the same blush paint Ian’s cheeks. “I have not seen your like since my deepest journeys into the very heart of the Fade, and had not thought to see again. The memory of your kiss,” he adds, lips parting in a grin brought on by the mere thought, “I will treasure it, even if you meant for it to be only a kiss.”

The thought dampens his spirits, but they are truly spoken.

“Though, it would be dishonest if I did not admit to hoping you meant it as something more.”

#i have found a home in him ( ian x solas )#theshirallen #( my writing )#was it only a kiss? ( thread )#( long post )

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askdurianrider · 8 years ago

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YO response to bonnyrebeccas tumblr about rt4 & your advice??

1. Im glad that Bonny answers some questions but it doesnt look like her energy is that good because she only answers a handful of questions per week, uploads every now and then and just seems to sit around watching repeats of The Lion King. When she was carbing up she was traveling around, doing more content, got her book out and was HEAPS fitter than she is today.

2. I base my advice on results. Im performance focused. If someone claims they feel better or worse then we look at what performances they did on certain diets/mindsets and then check them today or vice versa. I was talking to Bonny the other day about certain things. It was a long conversation but I didnt ask these questions. Maybe she can elaborate more? I know when I added in more daily fat over 100g that my legs felt really ‘blocked’ on the bike the next day and trying to hit 400w for 5 mins just felt impossible. I also felt more attraction to stimulants like caffeine etc. Like a daily attraction just to do everyday stuff that doesnt even require stimulants! xD

3. Bonny didnt give us any specific cal, carb or fat intakes so it is a bit confusing to the viewer what exactly is different? Was it more cals, more fat grams and less cals or eating at different times of the day and how are we measuring performance gains or losses?

4. Ive been coaching friends on fitness since 1996. Started as a PT in the gym back in 1999. I worked in sports footwear and cycling industry for many years. FADS come and go and industry makes xyz claim BUT Ive learned to sniff out what real results are and what is just fake. Nike claiming their shoes are faster when we know they are being worn by doped athletes just is bullshit. Put those shoes on the average punter and there is zero objective performance increase lol.

5. Give me anyone and I will turn them into their fittest self. Tori is fitter now after just a few months of playing around on the bike than when she was at the sports institute for rowing and guided by professional state coaches. Granted she lives with me so I can monitor her biological read out every hour of the day and adjust diet and training accordingly but you get the picture - Im not bound by institution or government ‘guidelines’. I have freedom to experiment and show people the results. Some people like to pretend that Im ‘fixed and bound’ to my own guide lines but Im not. Ive eaten so much vegan junk food on camera, experimented with steroids etc and poured 300g of sugar onto a 500g packet of kellogs sustain cereal to show people ‘how it affected my blood values in a negative way’ (it didnt and I had one of the strongest rides of my life the next day)

6. I know so many crew who claim to eat one way but eat another way because they are scared of losing customers. I know so many people who still have raging eating disorders and they hide it under ‘allergies’ etc. (Just to be clear Im NOT saying FL or Bonny had ED, in my honest opinion they don’t and living with FL I can honestly say she does eat a lot but when snacking on fatty stuff, she will limit it heavily but try a small amount).

7. Many people say some of the skinny girls on youtube etc have ED and whilst that may be true for some, it isnt true for the people that I promote. As soon as I hear wind of someone starving, Im all over them and making sure Im not promoting their bad example. Fuck man, life is hard enough without trying to get thru the day glucose exhausted and undercarbed AF.

8. I could get Bonny so fucking fit and toned. Bonny hasnt coached anyone to incredible results. I mean she could if she used my program and so could FL but neither girls do coaching and if they do, they are only parroting my template and Im not going to sue them for that haha. Im SO happy people spreading the high carb vegan word man! I mean Bonny going to give a refund for all those people who bought her high carb book? Stephanie? Freelee? Don’t think so bro.

9. People change, beliefs change. Human physiology laws dont though. Give me ANYONE and I can have them earning good money on social media, have them the fittest they have ever been (drug free) and have them more relaxed and confident about themselves and life than they ever thought was possible. Also they will NEVER have to worry about getting fat ever again!

10. To be objective critiques people need to read my 2 ebooks. Some say I recommend this or that but what I rate is in text and in my 2 ebooks. I recommend a LIFESTYLE based on quality sweet fruit IF you can get it. Supplement those cals each day with refined sugars and processed starches like rice, wheat, quinoa, corn, potatoes, yams etc. I say processed because when you cook something is is NOT a whole food! A whole food is an apple. You can drink more apples than you can eat a raw one. You can eat more cooked rice than raw rice. You can eat an INSANE amount of yams, sweet potatoes, corn if it is cooked vs raw aka you will GET WAY MORE CARBS SO YOU CAN GET LIFE FUCKING DONE! (Where is the discussion about training? Like why are people driving cars in Sydney when it is faster to just ride down the road vs store body fat, pollute the earth by sitting in a car that kill children, pets and wildlife every day?)

For those obsessed with just diet diet diet the TRUE WHOLE food DIEt is raw fruit. Just pick up a peach and eat it. That is a whole food!. (Whole food is NOT cooked food lol!)

A diet high in processed foods is essentially what I recommend.

Cooked starches aka rice of any kind, pasta.

Fruit smoothies.

Refined sugars aka dried fruit, cane sugar, fructose syrup, rice cakes etc.

Processed fats like tofu, oil, nut butters etc are good if you are getting too skinny or you have no heart disease risk. I eat them when Im looking to gain a bit of fat or not drop weight too fast because Im riding my bike more than sitting my undercarbed ass in a car. #irony

Bottom line I DONT take performance advice from peeps that can’t even post a tumblr question once a day or upload a basic youtube video once a day yet their profession is social media.

I DONT take performance advice from peeps that wouldnt put a fat person in their instagram shot yet would get dropped by a fat person up a hill on a bike.

People can critique my lifestyle advice (I dont do diets man, it is LIFESTYLE I teach) but fuck, at least so us some epic shit or epic transformations of people you have coached. Im running a 6 week festival this year in Thailand essentially on my own. You think Im gonna do that eating a mouse sized acai bowl I just paid $40 for from some hipster cafe in Bondi where you could drop 100$ on the ground and nobody would notice because they are too busy looking at their phones, their reflections in the window or at other hipsters hair cuts and analyzing the bondi sands tans. 😂

To be continued….

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ixxixixxi · 5 years ago

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fuk

my best friend now is telling me how shes eating kiwi and she may be mildly allergic to it but she likes it anyway and it reminded me of my best friend in 8th grade who i was mildly in love with who would eat oranges but she was def allergic and her mouth would get blotchy and sting and her tongue would get itchy and she’d run around fanning at herself but liked oranges too much to stop and im pretty sure the first time i saw her do that was idk if the first but def one of the most memorable memories i have of her i think because i realized i was def in love with her and wanted to kiss her but sdkjfhshjdfsf obviously my repressed little ass did Not do that bc i just am not sjdhfshdf someone who wants to tell people i like that i like them esp not her but anyway i shdjfhsdf

i just got rly sad and then it also really does not help that lately ive been wondering like am i also kind of in love with this friend???? i dont know i genuinely dont know??? sometimes im like no theres no way bc its just not the same as jhdfshjd with other people but at the same time the two times im somewhat certain i was in love before didnt feel exactly the same either but this i mean with this friend i ?? am i repressing my own feelings, am i too scared to let myself feel that?? i dont know and if i did feel that would i want to tell her I DEFINITELY DONT know about that either

and like one of my biggest fears is it turning out that im just lonely and pushed romanticized daydreams onto her bc shes like the only person i talk to and if that was the case i could never tell her that and hurt her somehow or make things weird bc like a few years ago she tolkd me shdjsahds shjdsad hsshdjhshdh yknow........ she felt that ffffff for me but we dhfsjhd i was i was just i literally at the time wasnt even processing romantic feelings like i was just rejecting them left and right whenever i felt them and not letting myself think abt that stuff at all and i literally was going through a crisis like am i ace?? am i just aromatnic?? but since then i think i settled on the fact that i probably am not aro im def bi in p much all aspects but i have so much anxiety and intimacy issues bc of my garbage father that the idea of someone else liking me makes me want to be sick a little bit.... which is something i still have not let myself think too hard about bc i feel like itll open an entirely new part of my insecure brain that i dont want to face probably...BUT ANYWAY.

flirting is so good and fun but its also awful bc it makes me like people and then the thought of them liking me genuinely and not just joking around makes my stomach turn and idk if its in a bad way or good way yknow?? i remember there was also this girl i liked before (ok what the hell i swear i typically like guys more and end up crushing on them more often than girls but all my crisis’ are over girls....why? also idk why im so fixated on which gender i like more often when im still attracted to literally anyone regardless of gender despite gender factoring into how my attraction feels....is this internalized biphobia) who as soon as she proclaimed her love 2 me i was immediately shaken and couldnt talk to her out of fear AND ALSO like she was sort of manipulative and awful sometimes which led to me not liking her but still the fact that as soon as she said she liked me i felt sick and scared and like couldnt speak to her why. why????

anyway what was i saying oh yeah idk THE FRUIT THIGN. it made me sad. it reminded me of when i realized i loved my 8th grade best friend and lately ive already been thinking about if im in love with this best friend or if im just hdfjhsfd i dont know i dont know what the fuck WOULDNT I KNOW FOR SURE THO if i was like wouldnt it be a definite yes or no? so since it not that must mean im not and im just being dhfjsdhf weird right?? am i just feeling extra gay lately and am projecting it on her? do i just want attention???

i dont know what the fuck is going on but i care abt this friend way too much to fucking mess with her emotions in any way and like i dhjfhjdf when she talks about this guy she liked i would get jealous sometimes but im not a very jealous person so its not like jshdhjsf intense jealousy but is that bc i dont rly like her and im just jealous of her giving attention and wanting to talk all the time to someone else OR am i jealous bc she liekd him i genuinely DONT KNOW? bc like sometimes i wouldnt be jealous tho except i still would be but hjsdjhsdf i dont know. do you see? i cant even understand my own intentions behind feelings. also like when things were going poorly between them i would get rly upset for her and definitely not happy about them not getting along, not even a little bit and if i liked her wouldnt i be glad shes talking to me instead of him? not rly tho bc 1 i would never want someone i like in any way be it romantic or platonic to be on bad terms with someone they care about, even if it benefits me somehow or makes them hang out with me more, thatd be awful and i get why other people feel that way sometimes but im grateful that i dont, and 2 i dont get jealous that way, the only time i get jealous is if someone is completely changing their attention from me to another person entirely, but if i still have some of their attention and theyre also friends/into/etc someone else its not rly an issue at all for me but is that bc thats just how my jealousy works?? or would it be different if i did love her in that way aND LIKE AM I CONFUSIGN romantic love with platonic love and ?? what the fuck

the thing is with a romantic partner i’d mostly just wanna do platonic things anyway?? and the only time i think of s** is in relation to my kinks which is weird i guess but shdfsjhdf i dont picture anything like that with someone i’d be romantically attracted to...do i? i dont know? ive never thought about it? in all my daydreams/fantasies/etc whoever im involved with s*xually hasnt ever been anyone specific just like a mix of everything im attracted to but isnt that normal? but then again love was definitely not involved in any of those fantasies, oh god. then again thats just ?? stuff in my head its not an indicator of what i’d like or be like in reality right with another person I >SDF?SDF SD?F AAAA what the fuck.

maybe all of this will become clearer to me when i move the fuck out and am able to be myself and think clearly without worrying about what my idiot parents or brother will say abt anything i express. then again moving out seems like it will be another lifetime away, it doesnt even seem like a possibility right now which makes me want to fckn kneel over and die. AAAAA WHATEVER BYE

what the fucdjksdcsdkjsd i hate being a person with weird undecipherable emotions i wish i was a fucking dog or raccoon or god damn ROCK

#txt #i am too sober to be analyzing my stupid feelings this mcuh

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strawberryspeachy · 6 years ago

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I can read through the convo I’ve had with that boy for the past month in the same amount of time it takes me to read through a day in the summer

He actually asked me questions and kept the conversation going and joked with me so reading through any given day can take upwards of 10 minutes. And most of those days we had half of the conversation via Snapchat that I can longer see

It takes about 7 minutes to read what is me just me talking and him either not responding or giving one word replies or reluctantly a few sentences after I’ve nagged at him about it :(

Yea yea. Take the hint. From November to now (March) exact same day too... he’s never wanted to talk to me

There’s literally been two instances that he talked to me normally and I melted for the rest of the day. Not long either. Just him texting me first to just tell me something. So short that I’d even wondered those times if he accidentally texted me instead of someone else.

I’ve asked every question except for “do you actually want to talk to me” because as he said yesterday. The answers no. I knew it was no. That’s why I’ve stressed over everything else. Because I knew this whole time he hasnt wanted to talk to me. And I’ve asked every question

Why are you ignoring me

Why are you talking to that girl

Why don’t you treat me like you treat them

Why didn’t you look at my picture

Did you like my picture

Do you still think I’m pretty

Am I annoying you

Who are you texting

What are you doing

Any question around the focus. Do you WANT to talk to me.

No.

He doesn’t care about me at all.

I hate that he has options.

It sucks. Because if he didn’t have options. I know he’d like me. He did before. He got bored and there’s always someone else willing to be there for him so he can drop any of those feelings and leave

Me though. I don’t have options. No one I ever legitimately like reciprocates those feelings.

Years go by intbetween the times someone I truely want to be with comes along and shows interest.

If I had options and he wanted me I’d choose him and that’s what sucks. Because he won’t choose me and I don’t have other options.

It’s not like I haven’t been open to guys advances. But no one ever does. I’ve become interested in boys I didn’t find physically attractive but who were nice to me and acted interested. And then they were even meaner to me.

I’m fucked up. I’m miserable. I’m a shitty person when I’m upset. But I always meet these guys when I’m feeling ok. I don’t show that side. I do everything right.

There’s a legitimate attraction. We talk about our lives and interest. We joke and laugh together. We show interest in each other. I don’t flake on people even when I really want to but everyone I’ve ever met had cancelled on me at the last second. And with these dudes that do that (with the exception of the college dude) I’ve always been a normal understanding person who goes - that’s ok! You do what you gotta do we can reschedule if you want!

I don’t understand. I genuinely don’t understand. I’m not trying to make myself look good by any account when I say I literally have no clue what’s goes wrong every time.

NO ONE. WILL. TELL. ME.

It’s been happening my whole life and I started getting mad about it come college. I started demanding to know. Ive started acting like the crazy person when it happens. And. It doesn’t lead to answers

To be fair I started off just nicefully asking. All that got me was ‘what are you talking about? I didn’t stop talking to you! We’re talking right now’

When when I started pointing out that we are because I tracked them down I get ‘I’m sorry! I’ve been really busy!! I didn’t even realize’

Pointing out what it is they’ve been doing that show they no longer want to talk lead to people reacting the same way as if I went insane on them. I literally haven’t recieved a different response to me politely and thoughtfully going

‘hey. Idk if you’ve meant to do this. But it feels like you don’t want to talk to me anymore. You’re responses have been shorter and we don’t talk much anymore. You don’t seem to find my jokes funny anymore even thought they’re the same as before. And you haven’t reached out in a while - it’s just been me. Maybe you’re busy with (insert whatever thing I knew they were up to a month ago) and I’m sorry if I’m bothering you if that’s the case. But I was just wondering if I did something wrong’

That would lead to the same ‘OMG YOU EXPECT SO MUCH FROM ME!! I HAVE MY OWN LIFE AND DONT HAVE TIME TO PUT UP WITH YOUR BS!! I HAVENT BEEN IGNORING YOU IVE BEEN TIRED AND BUSY.’ —- followed by being personally attacked with whatever it is that person feels (whether it be projecting. Bringing up something small from months before they stopped talking to me. Or whatever nerve I touched during my message or speech)

I’ve literally gotten the same response from doing that as I’ve gotten to say.... going to their house and confronting them at an inconvienient time.

Both generally followed by ‘you always play the victim’ or ‘ you do stuff like this so that’s why’

These same speaches come from people I’ve known as little at a week to people I’ve know for 10 years.

It sounds as thought I’m hiding something. I just act like this psycho person all the time probably right. It’s not like I can prove that’s not the truth..... it sucks.

I hold so much hate still toward my freshman year roommate because she reacted to me this way and I know for a fact I never did anything wrong to that girl. I consciously every second of the day made sure to be nice and considerate and positive. And when she left and told the world that I was the devil. The only things she said that actually happened were

1) I raised my voice. I did whine loudly that one time at the like 3rd time her and her bf tried to have sex in the bunk bed above me I let out a loud whine and in the same pitch said “please stop I’m trying to sleep”

2) I had a dusty fan. You’re right. I should have cleaned it. It only blew on me but that’s my b. It didn’t occur to me that it was a problem but I would have cleaned it if she ever told me it bothered her

3) one night I got irritated and yelled at my printer and hit it. Yes. I did that. It was quite late but she was over on her computer and all the lights were one. I got stressed out that my printer stopped working and in a louder tone went something to the effect of “what the fuck you stupid thing!!” My friends earrring had dissapeared inside of it a few days prior. We looked for it but the printer ate and hid it somehow. I hit the printer in frustration. And then it began to work and in a happy voice I went “oh cool that worked” according to her that incident made my fucking psycho.

4) not in her list of complaints to everyone as to why I was the absolute worst were. One time I walked in and didn’t see her sleeping. So I turned on the light as I talked to my friend. I felt really bad when she sat up very disoriented and apologized and turned the light back off and left. Another time I walked in while her and her bf were in the middle of fucking and backed back out of the room.

One time when I was going to a party my friend said I should have my roommate do my makeup - while she was sitting there. I was already getting vibes the girl didn’t like me and so I didn’t try to talk to her unless she talked to me - keep it polite... I... didn’t actually admit to myself that she didn’t like me but I did try to give her as much space as you can in a dorm. She’d go to the library all day to be away from me so when she’d come back to go to sleep I’d go to the common room till I was ready to sleep. Stuff like that. But my friend saying that right in front of her I went with it and excitedly went - you’re right she does do great makeup and asked her if she’d like to do my makeup for me. She said ok. And when the day came I texted her and asked her if she still was ok with doing my makeup. She said she was busy studying and went that’s ok! I didn’t tell my friend that I thought she didn’t like me or anything. I just stayed surface level and said she’s busy studying! That’s ok! I don’t think my face is a good canvas for her preferred makeup.

I have literally never tried harder in my life to be good to someone. And that girl fucking despised me. She didn’t just dislike me but she wanted EVERYONE to hate me. And she went out of her way to make that happen.

And that’s what’s devastating about it. Not that she was a great person. She wasn’t. She said things that disturbed me all the fucking time and I would be positive and compliment her on something that’s going well for her or that’s she’s doing good now. I successfully for the first time since elementary school stayed positive with someone who tried so hard to make me say something mean. And instead of anything good was punished for it.

And she did what she sought out to do. My friends stayed on my side and told me how they didn’t understand why she disliked me so much. But I could always see them wondering - it’s it true? She’s actually insane to be with too long isn’t she? So many things for the next few months that they didn’t just tell me she was doing. They waited to see if I brought it up myself. Like I told my one friend days later that I asked someone on my floor if they knew why she had moved out. If she said anything specific about what I’d done. And he told me he didn’t even know she left. That’s when my friend spoke up and said - no she tagged him on fb and said thanks for helping her move out. No one told me toll the next year that she had added the boy I liked on fb. Not till once again I said I was talking to him and it was good at first but then he suddenly pulled away and idk why. Then suddenly - oh yeah! She added him on fb btw - they’re friends.

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foreverahijabi95 · 8 years ago

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i feel so ugly and I never see myself as pretty and I'm always looking at these people online who are absolutely gorgeous and I can never be like that I feel awful about myself what do I do? i know I shouldn't compare myself but i can't help it, it's all around you know. even my friends are utterly gorgeous and I feel crappy about myself

Firstly I want to say you are beautiful trust me I am not even just saying that just to make you feel better I genuinely mean it. I know you are probably thinking how the bob does she know she hasnt seen my picture but trust me I know. I have met and seen so many girls in person and online especially over the past 6 years of being on social media. Every single girl I have seen has been gorgeous and no one ive seen I would ever say nor think is ugly because I have never seen any ugly girls out there.Now that I have got that out of the way know that the feelings you have are totally normal. Every single girl or woman in the world has at some point (if not all the time) thought that they arent pretty and that other girls are prettier than them. Every girl including the most gorgeous women in the world including Angelina Jolie the most stunning woman ever has felt down and felt like she was not pretty. You have to understand that you feeling like that is normal and you shouldnt think that you are the only one. I mean ive fallen in that trap a billion times so I am talking from experience too. Usually this self doubt comes more from ourselves rather than other people. We have a bad habit of looking at the beauty in others but never giving ourselves that a chance. Another thing to remember is that when you look at someone like a pretty girl on instagram or a celebrity or your friend you wont be looking for their flaws you wont even be looking at their individual features your main focus will be on their entire face where as when we look at ourselves in the mirror we look at ourselves in a more harsh and judgemental view by picking out our faults rather than looking at what we like about ourselves. We also as humans love the idea of looking different and if a person has a feature different to ourselves we automatically see this feature as beautiful because we dont have it. You have to understand that beauty comes in so many shapes and sizes. There are so many celebrities out there who have different face shapes, nose shapes, eye colours, skin tones etc and they all are beautiful and every single person finds them beautiful so even if you look different to someone you find beautiful it does not mean that you are not beautiful. It just means you are unique and beautiful at the same time❤Try remind yourself all this everyday and sit in the mirror and say I am beautiful and rather than listing the reasons why you are not list the reasons why you are beautiful and what you love about your face and your personality (dont forget beauty shines from within you can have the most perfect features but if you treat others like crap and you arent nice then people wont bother and they will be put off. A good personality and kindness can be more attractive than looks). It sounds weird but I started to do this after feeling the same way you had felt and I am slowly starting to accept my features. We have all fallen into the trap of chasing for what society has chose is "beautiful" which is basically looking like kylie jenner (rolls eyes)If you look at instagram and social media today all women are wearing a heavy amount of makeup, some wear contacts, some wear wigs, some edit their photos etc and you can not compare the edited and made up version of someone else to your no makeup chilling in pjs self because thats not their true self everyone looks a lot different in pictures than in real life and its because we are all insecure about something with our looks that people edit in the first place.I do it myself so I am not hating on other girls but can you see how many people look exactly like kylie jenner or have similar sort of looks. People have changed themselves and who they are to follow celebrities or social norms when the differences in your features are what make you different and unique and not like anyone else. You are your own version of beautiful and you should never change that for example If you have a bigger nose than others (im saying this as an example cos I have a big nose 😂🙈) embrace that because no one else has that nose and it makes you you and doesnt make you a robot or sheep to society. Would you want to be classed as "beautiful" according to societies norms or be classed as "beautiful" for who you are and how you actually look? Im sorry I have typed so much but I really want you to understand that you are beautiful and that even if you may not think it I really hope that you will train yourself to not self loathe and to accept who you are and appreciate all the beautiful features you have even if societys stupid norms say different because if we lived to societys norms of beautiful we would all look the exact same and I dont know about you but I wouldnt want all women to look exactly like Kylie Jenner it would get pretty confusing and irritating. I hope this makes sense and you take my advice and look at the good. There is so much more I want to type but Im trying not to bore you 🙈If you ever want to private message me my inbox is always open whether its on tumblr, instagram or email etc. I know im terrrible at replying fast but I will never ignore a message and I always do reply in the end (I just have a lot of personal stuff going on). I hope you are having an awesome and amazing day and week ❤❤❤❤❤🙈

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