#her books are such a strange thing for me

[therandompagesblog]

Hunting Your Soul Chapter 2 🫀Y/N🫀

Trigger Warnings: Stalking, Haunting, Elderly vulnerability

My Grandmother always said that things crept in the dark. She believed in creatures that preyed on the living and consumed our souls. A devoted supernaturalist, she embraced everything from out-of-body experiences to fanged predators of the night. Her beliefs fascinated me. Sure, vampires were entertaining in fantasy novels, but in reality, they were morally ambiguous killers with heightened emotions. Werewolves? Just humans cursed to become wolves that hunted the living. That was my take on it, anyway. Despite my scepticism, I was intrigued. I lived in a quaint town called Bude on the English coast. It boasted a lovely beach, frequented year-round, and a rich history steeped in the supernatural, thanks to its perpetually grey skies. Coincidence? Perhaps. Bude's eerie reputation inspired countless horror stories, much to the amusement of locals. The influx of tourists, especially around Halloween, boosted the economy. The downside? It took nearly two hours to drive to the nearest city, Exeter. That was where I was heading, intent on visiting a new library to find supernatural books for my grandmother.

The library loomed ahead, a stark white building with towering windows, a beacon of knowledge in the dimming light. Inside, the scent of old paper and forgotten dreams enveloped me. Shelves towered around me, groaning under the weight of countless volumes. My fingers brushed the spines as I searched for the elusive "Supernatural" section. I found myself chuckling at some of the titles: "The Vampire's Guide to Etiquette," "Werewolf Yoga for Beginners," and "Witches' Brew for Dummies." Absurd, yes, but strangely intriguing. The pages held a certain allure, a promise of the unknown, the forbidden. I imagined myself immersed in these fantastical worlds, battling vampires in moonlit graveyards, outwitting cunning witches, and experiencing the thrill of the hunt alongside a pack of werewolves. Of course, I knew the reality was far grimmer. Vampires were not romantic figures, but bloodthirsty predators. Werewolves were not noble creatures of the wild, but savage beasts driven by primal urges. But the allure of the unknown, the thrill of the forbidden, was undeniable. It was a dangerous fascination, a siren song that whispered promises of adventure and danger. As I finally unearthed a stack of dusty tomes, a strange sensation washed over me. A prickle of unease, a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. I glanced around, heart pounding. The library, once a haven of quiet contemplation, now seemed to hold a sinister energy. Shadows danced in the corners, whispering secrets in the language of the night. A low growl, guttural and menacing, echoed from the depths of the library. I froze, every sense on high alert. My breath hitched in my throat as I searched for the source of the sound. Nothing. Silence. Just the eerie creaking of the old building settling under the weight of the night. I realised then I should probably stop listening to my sweet grandmother. My mind was now playing mind tricks on me and I was now starting to believe in the eerie haunting horrors of the supernatural. I quickly packed up the books and scanned them out before heading back to my car. Walking back to my car. I could have sworn the air had changed. The calmness of the wind smelled different. It smelled heavy. I picked up my pace as I twisted and turned down the streets. Listening to the unusual sounds in the air. I could have sworn I heard something animalistic behind me. I could have sworn I heard its footsteps but maybe I was paranoid. It was the evening after all. Once I was in my car I drove straight to my grandmothers to drop off the books. Whatever was out there I wasn't going to stick around for it. I wasn't going to be killed out in Exeter. My poor grandmother wouldn't be able to get my body. She didn't drive. Bless her heart. She was old and could barely lift things. Partly because she was slightly too lazy but at her age I think it's acceptable. "Here you are Grandmother. I got you some new and obscure book." I called out as I headed into the living room to see Grandmother on a step ladder trying to fix a light. "Grandmother are you mad! What if you fell." Sometimes this woman surprised me when she wanted to. "Don't be foolish." She huffed "I wanted to read my book and the bulb blew. Can't always rely on you can I Duck." "Now now grandmother! You can always rely on me." I chided. She waved her hand and asked me to put the books down so she could see them. Satisfied enough she took them all to her room while I was left with the stories of Monica. A creepy story about Monica summoning a demon and having paranormal activity. It was a good read for now while it distracted me from what was outside.

🫀🫀

This was not how I imagined spending my Sunday morning up in the attic. Grandmother asked me to get some photos down as she decided she wanted to redecorate the entirety of the living room. She wanted photos from her trip to Venice on her walls rather than me and my siblings. It was cute but the attic wasn't. The attic was filled with cobwebs and spiders. I was ready to give up on finding these photos as crawled across the attic going through different boxes until I found the right one. Aha, there it is! I grabbed the dusty old box and dragged it towards me when I heard a knock on the door. I cursed myself as I realised I was the only one in the house as my grandmother had gone to meet her friend Avis for coffee. I slowly climbed down the steps with the box and tried to steady myself as I was about to hit the ground when a knock came from the door again. "One second," I called out with a huff. Slightly sweating from carrying a box. I headed down to the stairs to open the front door to see no one was there. I looked out and around but the street was quiet. Empty. "Weird," I mumbled. I was about to shut the door when I noticed a small box on the floor. My name was written across it beautifully. That was unusual to me. I didn't live here. I only visited every other day to help my grandmother out when my parents were working. I took the parcel inside and opened it to see a note: to enlighten your mind little petal. C I frowned at the note before looking into the box to see two books inside about vampires. One was Dracula and the other was on The Crimes of Vampires. I rolled my eyes and looked into the box again to see if there was anything else. Weird. So weird. I didn't know how to feel about all of this. I didn't know who the person was that sent me this or why. It felt creepy. Sinister. It could be harmless but in this world, you didn't know. All I knew was they would eventually show themselves when they were ready to.

18+ Taglist for those who are not turning back

@catlove83 @itsyourleilei @whatudowhennooneseesyou @leeknot @estella-novella @fackeraccount @eastjonowhere @cocofia143 @jennibahng @noerinspace @sleepingmissingprincess @ye0lkkot @hiitsmebbygrl16 @shhimhereforsmut @jaeminie-cricket @stayceebs97 @ritiiiiiii @chlodavids @beautystarry @hyunjinhoexxx @hash2013 @jeonginontopforever @catnipchannie

[lipklltty]

Hogwarts reality

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𝐕𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𖦹 Age: 10

𖦹 Birthday: 16 November

𖦹 Ethnicity: Russian and British

𖦹 Blood status: Pureblood

𖦹 House: Hufflepuff

𖦹 Languages: Russian, English (uk accent ofc)

𖦹 Bestfriend: Ella Juliette Loxley

𖦹 Pet: Duchess, ragdoll

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𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆. (yap yap yap boringg)

I grew up in a luxurious, private estate in England, raised by my Russian grandmother, Irina Tikhonov, and my older brother, Viktor Leonid Rosewood after my parents died in a mysterious accident. Grandma dismissed every question me and Viktor asked about it. So eventually we let it go. Though extremely privileged, childhood was still lonely and boring. I pretty much only had Viktor to be with, moving from private school to another, being kicked out for ��causing trouble”. It wasn’t intentionally, sometimes, strange things just happened around me. It was weird because Grandma never got mad, rather it seemed that it pleased her. Then when I turned 8, Viktor got sent to a boarding school. I was jealous, I felt abandoned. Two years later, I got my letter. Viktor and grandma told me all about me our magic heritage. He told me about Hogwarts while grandma showed me all her spell book’s and charms.

Btw what house should my brother be in!!

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✩ Mood board

✩ Viviannes Favorite things

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[the-fiction-witch]

Quenya

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (Gil-Galad's Daughter) Rating - 12 Word Count - 947

Elrond reclined comfortably against the contorted branch of his favoured tree, its branches swaying gently in the warm breeze that drifted across the broad field. The sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead, casting dappled patterns on the parchment clutched in his hands. As he meticulously crafted a speech for high King Gil-Galad, his brow furrowed in concentration, the faint rustle of grass and distant melody of birds provided a serene backdrop for his thoughts.

He donned his familiar blue robes, the fabric flowing gracefully down to his ankles, reminiscent of a clear summer sky. His cloak, a rich deep blue that complemented his attire, was casually draped over a higher branch of the gnarled old tree beside him, its fabric gently swaying in the light breeze.

Muttering softly, Elrond considered each word carefully, searching for the perfect synonyms and evocative metaphors. He wanted to elevate the king's impenetrable image and portray him as a figure of wisdom and grace, rather than the brash and brutish persona that might emerge without Elrond's thoughtful direction.

“Ar so ni vanta bime i laire kal…” Y/n muttered,

Y/n perched gracefully on a sturdy lower branch of a sprawling tree, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting playful shadows around her. Dressed in a soft, flowing gown, the fabric shimmered like water under the sun. Her hair was elegantly tied back in intricate braids, and adorned with a gentle gold tiara that rested lightly atop her head. Clasped in her hands was a well-worn book, its pages yellowed with age, and she focused intently on the words, doing her utmost to read,

“…Ar so ni vanta bime i laire, úrin.” Elrond corrected her, “Not Kal, angel.”

“Humm…” she huffed,

“Do not pout, you are learning.” He laughed,

“I can’t seem to learn very fast,”

“And how fast do you expect to learn? Took me twenty years to gain fluency in all elven tongues you will not learn in three weeks.” He scoffed, he took a hand from his works and gently ran it through her hair, “You are doing well angel, do not punish yourself for your failures, celebrate the success.”

“I suppose so,” she nodded,

“Again, from the beginning,”

“Appanna-” she cursed under her breath,

“I heard that.” he glared down at her,

She blushed knowing she’d been caught,

“No need for vulgarity angel,” He warned,

“Sorry,”

“Contuine Angel.”

“I úrin came once tare ana pán- over i ettele, ar mornië aeg ana i cemen. An i wilya once filled as elena ilya aeg ana cemen cascading nar -esse wake, ar ilya tai polda fárea ana fight were gifted weapons -o i númen, sanda soldiers -o valanor, ar tai man could vamme n- hyarya ana either aid or sail ana safer shores. Sina ohtatimeár- raged pella enyalie some were nón- minna sina world ar even bearing witness ana mana began sina ohtatimeár-. Mal -esse times -o senda emme ilya prosper ar care- a world anew, ve ni vanta though i shimmering úrin ni cen- estel i mana na- sinya shall n- better then -yes voro was yenya,” she read,

“Very good,” He nodded, “Very good angel,”

“Umm… Do you believe so?”

“Believe what?”

“That the world will be more beautiful now Than it was before?”

“Perhaps, I am afraid the war mentioned in your book is long before my time angel,” he cooed stroking her head, “So I can’t say,”

“But do you believe it is?”

“I think, there are many in lindon and beyond who are far older than you and I, princess.” He began, “They look back at their past in a strange way, both a fondness for such a time and a hatred of it, always assuming things were better and yet worse.”

“Father always does that, says the world was far harsher when he was my age.” she nodded, “What do you think?”

“The world will always be new, whether it is better or worse is only for our memories to decide. But it shall be new regardless.”

“Hummm…” she hummed leaning her head against his thigh,

“Keep reading angel, you need more practice.”

“Must I?” she looked up with the saddest eyes,

“Do not pout, you asked for my help. Go on.”

“Fine….” she grumbled,

“Still baffles me you couldn’t speak Quenya,” he chuckled,

“My parents didn’t teach us it,” she shrugged,

“Whyever not?”

“They needed something they could talk in that we didn’t understand so they didn’t teach us Quenya, so they could talk without us knowing.”

“…That is evil… and genius.” He nodded, “where did all this intelligence in your father go?” he asked,

“It was my mother’s idea.”

“Ahh! That makes far more sense.”

“Umm very clever lady,”

“You are a very clever little lady too, Angel.” he cooed,

“I am?” she smiled,

“Yes you are,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on her head, “Go on, next chapter. Then I’ll finish this off and we can go see your father.”

“Must we?” she sighed,

“We must,”

“Can I have some more kisses before we go?”

“Of course,” He let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and comforting as he gently assisted her in climbing up beside him. Once she was settled, she rested her head against his chest. As he worked, he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly, his lips just brushing against her skin. With a playful grin, he gave her a small nudge,“Go on, read to me, my angel.”

She nodded, and continued her book, “Ar so -yes was i vast sinya world, a nór -o dreams ar estel built -esse sina world were sinya kingdoms nón- -o i valaina's kal ana n- kingdoms -o ullúme úrin, -o lissi laurië lillassea an ilya i elves ana túl ar ilya i would linger on…”

[funlovingfuzzball]

I super doubt most have because oh my lord. Numbers. Numbers is the worst book of the bible by far. Why? Because the whole thing is the most dense list of archaic rules christians don’t follow that I’ve ever seen, interlaced with some really gruesome death scenes. Honestly, let’s do this. Numbers has 36 chapters, let’s do reina reacts to (the first half of) the book of numbers. Seriously, read this and tell me your average christian has read this whole thing.

This entire chapter is about how to take a census, and the results of that census. Bafflingly, the tribe of levi does not take a census because they build tabernacles. This does not seem like a thing that would affect their census results but sure.

This one is about how to set up tents based on the census. The tribe of levi were not in the census, it mentions again, and I have no clue where their tents go.

Okay now we deal with the tribe of levi. They take their own separate census, which is incredibly specific. They take care of the tabernacle in highly specific groups. Okie dokie then. Also moses takes money from every other family to give to the levites because of egyption plagues reasons.

A specific portion of the levites, the kohathites, take a smaller census. They then learn the very specific instructions on how to set up the “tent of meeting”, which mainly involves wrapping everything in blue cloth. Another portion, the gershonites, take a census and are told to carry the curtains. A third group, the merarites, take a census and are told to carry the tentposts. Then we summarize these facts again.

If anyone is “unclean”, which is a specific term with highly specific rules, they must leave the camp because god is in the camp. If they wrong another, they must confess and make 120% restitution, unless there’s no one to give the restitution, in which case it goes to a priest. If a man thinks his wife is unfaithful, he brings her and some barley flour to a priest, and the priest makes her drink cursed water, and if she’s unfaithful she’ll miscarry.

If someone wants to make a special religious oath and become a nazirite, they must avoid all grapes, not cut their hair, and avoid the dead, though they can make a burnt offering if they do encounter a dead body. Also, priests have a special blessing to learn.

Once the tabernacle is built, each tribe brings extensive offerings to sacrifice to the altar, which are listed out in a record 89 verses and read like a strange grocery list.

Lamps must face forward. Cool. Can do. Also, the levites must be purified, using water and flour and olive oil and a bull’s head - nope, two bull’s heads. All levites from ages 25 to 50 must work at the tent of meeting.

This is the highly specific requirements for passover. If you’re unclean, you do it a month later. Foreigners must do it too. Also, if there’s a cloud on top of the tabernacle, you can’t leave, but you can if it goes away.

Moses must make two silver trumpets to call meetings - if both are sounded, everyone should show up, but if only one is, it’s only for the leaders. You also blow them if you’re defending in battle, or at a festival. Also, everyone left sinai, and every single leader is detailed.

People complain about their hardships and god burns down their tents. So that’s fun. Then they beg for meat, having apparently not learned from the tents on fire, and god made all the leaders speak prophesies, and then hundreds of quail showed up from the sea. Unsurprisingly, everyone who had begged for the meat was then struck with a plague and promptly died.

Miriam and aaron get mad at moses because he married a cushite. They complain about him, and miriam is given leprosy, and aaron begs for forgiveness for her, after which she is banished for seven days but then comes back safe. This feels very avoidable given all of chapter 11. Just saying. Also why was aaron fine? None of this chapter is fun

The israelites explore canaan, in unending detail. They also found people there who made them look like grasshoppers in comparison. Nothing really happens here

Now everyone at the next meeting complains, because that went so well the last three times, and then possibly beat up moses and aaron and rip their clothes? Or maybe they rip their own clothes? Then moses has to tell god not to kill everyone, and god agrees but swears that no one there but two people that stood up for moses and aaron would ever make it to the promised land, and the rest had to wander in the wilderness for forty years. Then everyone who wasn’t at the meeting decides to go attack the canaanites, and they fail miserably because if there’s one thing to learn from any of this it’s that disrespecting god’s direct orders is a bad choice.

Once they enter the land they have to make a highly specific offering again. Also, there are very specific offerings needed for unintended sins. One man works on the sabbath and is stoned to death (whee). And lastly, clothes need to have blue tassels. Serious tonal whiplash here.

Three more guys yell at moses, along with 250 other important guys. Moses yells at them to make a very specific offering, and they yell at him more, after which moses tells god not to forgive them. Everyone is told to get away from their tents, and the earth swallows the three guys, and then the 250 are burned alive. Then everyone else yells at them for that, and then those guys have a plague, such that 14700 more people die. Wow do these folks not even slightly learn.

All twelve leaders make wooden staffs and god makes aaron’s grow almonds, signalling that people should stop complaining - after which they all start screaming that they’ll all die.

Priests have very specific jobs, and also they should eat very specific portions of the offerings.

So yeah, that’s the first half of the book of numbers. Numbers sucks. Honestly leviticus is way more dense with rules, as is deuteronomy, but numbers wins in my book for constantly flashing between the exact details of a proper census and then 250 guys getting burned to death. Such a weird, weird book

- Reina

Christians, have you actually read the entirety of the Bible?

Yes

No

Some/Most of it

Not a Christian

[fictionadventurer]

The Rosemary Tree is the first time I've had to put down a book so I could sob over how beautiful it was.

[spookygibberish]

Made a faintly insane list of of every animated movie I have good enough memories of to feel confident ranking, although some of them I would probably move around if I saw them more recently....

[azure-clockwork]

How Does it Feel to Read Classic Sci-Fi?

Orson Scott Card: Two of the most interesting books you’ll ever read if you’re willing to look past a handful of things. And then you find the planet of Chinese people who worship having debilitating OCD. And the Mormonism. And the fact that the author is wildly homophobic and ought to read his own books.

Robert Heinlein (or at least the Wikipedia Summaries): I guess that’s a neat concept—oh, it’s a sex thing. Um. Gotcha.

Ray Bradbury: Man, I gotta read this thing for class huh. Well here’s hoping it’s good! *three hours later* oh. that’s why he’s famous. this will stick with me forever and I will never look at the phrase ‘soft rain’ the same again. christ. And then repeat 3x.

Isaac Asimov: Wow, this is such an interesting concept! I wonder how the exploration of it will influence the plot! Wait, hey, are you going to add any characters? Any of em? No like, with character traits other than ‘robot psychologist’ and ‘autistic’ and ‘woman’? None of em? No, ‘detective’ isn’t a character trait. Those are all just facts. Aaaand now I’m bored.

Ursula K. Le Guin: Hah, get a load of this guy! He’s never heard of nonbinary people before. Lol, what a riot; how dumb do you have to be to comprehend that these people aren’t men *or* women actually? Oh, wait, what’s happening. Oh shit, it was about society and love and learning to understand each other? And now I’m crying? And perhaps a better human being for it??

Andy Weir: Alright, this guy’s a really good writer. Funny, creative, knows so much engineering stuff…ooh, a new book! …I guess he can’t write women. Well, he wouldn’t be the first sci-fi writer…ooh another new book! And it’s more engineering problem solving and—wow. It’s not just women he can’t write. Please stop letting your characters talk to each other.

Lois Lowry: Oh, I remember this being fun when I was a kid! Wouldn’t it be fucked up to not see color? …upon reread, it would be fucked up to have your humanity stripped away, replaced with a tepid, beige ‘happiness’ for all time. Yeah.

Tamsyn Muir (let me have this ok): Haha, “lesbian necromancers in space” sounds fun. Lemme read this. Oh wow, yeah, this is right up my alley. OH GOD WHAT. NO. FUCK. OH SHIT WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING AND WHY IS IT REFERENCING THE BOOK OF RUTH AND HOMESTUCK BACK TO BACK!!! AHHHHHHHHH!! Now give me more please.

[northern-passage]

all of the book recommendations i got for stand alone fantasy:

piranesi, jonathan strange & mr. norrell by susanna clarke

babel by R.F. kuang

the sword of kaigen, blood over bright haven by M.L. wang

house of hunger by alexis henderson

dark lord of derkholm by diana wynne jones

the raven tower by ann leckie

starless by jacqueline carey

the goblin emperor by katherine addison

spinning silver by naomi novik

dreamsnake by vonda mcintyre

juniper & thorn (and other books) by ava reid

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

The Deep Sky

scifi mystery thriller

on a deep space mission traveling from an environmentally devastated earth with hope to restart humanity elsewhere

when they’re halfway, an explosion kills 3 crew and pushes them off course

the only witness is the Alternate who has no specific role, and she has to figure out who caused it & if they might continue to sabotage, while they're figuring out a way to get back on course with limited resources

flips between present and the past: of her childhood and training for the mission, her identity struggles, and relationship with her mother

questions the ethics of ‘restarting’ humanity elsewhere vs putting resources into fixing earth

[faaun]

i feel rly sad and conflicted abt one of my best friends on earth but idk who to ask for advice bc i usually would have consulted her in this situation lmao

[bayofwolves]

i've been thinking ab abeke x worthy for the last 12 hours... do y'all feel me. could i convince y'all to get on board this ship

[goldensunset]

i want to properly hit people with the keykid dalia lore but unfortunately i’m a perfectionist and i believe text should be accompanied with pictures in order to have a stronger impact which means i gotta draw which means it’ll never happen

[krogans-give-the-best-cuddles]

Reading the Orchid Thief and lemme say. So fascinating to see someone like. Try to come up with a Reason Why humans like orchids. Two chapters here in a row pretty much treating Orchid hobbyists and plant hobbyists in general like one would an entirely alien culture- and don't get me wrong I understand why to an extent. Trying to make this book marketable outside just plant circles and what have you. But some of the way the camera is angled here is just. Fascinating.

Like, she explains how there are so many unique ways orchids evolved, as an attempt to contextualize for a reader why people might go crazy for them in specific, and describes individual species unique mating strategies, and the inability of them to self pollinate- but while I think that context is interesting it doesn't explain a damn thing. For one thing, having an extremely specific mating strategy is not solely an Orchid thing- a LOT of plants do it like that. Lots are flexible but I would say a vast swath are not and require specific things. For another- apples also don't self fertilize, but you don't have hundreds of thousands of apple varietal collectors.

She discusses their beauty as a reason they're collected- I won't deny that being a factor for sure, plants that humans like the shape of have a tendency to get collected and overcollected all the time- but like. A lot of people collect things that are traditionally ugly or even smell bad- and if it was exclusively a shallow pursuit, no one would work as hard as is required for an insane amount of orchids.

Part of the reasons orchids in particular are popular has to do with colonization. I can't articulate it all myself bc I haven't done research- but a genus that largely exists in tropical regions, that became popular in the late 1800s, that, in order to get in homes, white men would travel to all sorts of regions to take plants out of to get in the home? That is gonna help it get more popular than tomato or apple varieties for sure. I'm sure she's gonna touch on this eventually, given that the story she's covering actually involves the Seminole nation so I'm not holding it against her.

I suppose I'm just fascinated by her approach so far as to trying to understand why anyone would. Work to grow something? Really like something? I mean she pretty explicitly states that she "wants to want something" as much as these people want their plants- describes hobby communities and the idea of like. Working a hobby into your schedule or having friends related to the hobby as a "religion". She's baffled by like. Putting time and energy into a hobby and gaining joy and community from it and is trying to like. Break down orchids into their component parts to understand what makes someone. Want to grow a plant? And get community out of a hobby?

I'm going to be charitable and not make presumptions that she doesn't know like. The concept of loneliness and therefore a longing for community. Or that on some level she must know what common signs of autism are (ignoring her having spent several paragraphs describing several different people with classic signs and symptoms and then settling on "weird"). But it makes me want to turn the camera lens around for a moment. What makes someone presume that it's Orchid "obsession" (the word hobby is rather rare in the book acrually) that is particularly strange or more obsessed than other obsessions? What makes one abstract others hobbies and interests as needing a solve while the ones you surely have seen all over and even participated in aren't worth that examination? The line between "normal" and "abnomal" is entirely one made by dominant society

So this is why hobbies and kink aren't so different in the way they're perceived-

Orchids are an obsession to this author, to be highlighted and examined, or a hobby, to most people. They get a noteworthy category because they are seen as atypical. Sports-watching, however, is like. Never discussed as hobby. Watching football, watching soccer. It's just normal. No one says "that's my hobby." Even if a guy had a room full of memorabilia he would be noted as a "team fan" not a hobbyist. Sports has been declared normative, so it's not really considered a hobby by anyone. Plants? Non normative, therefore the same exact behaviors will get you considered unusual and a hobbyist.

Kink is the same way. People who are attracted to women being interested in breasts is so assumed to be normal and natural that no one calls it a kink. Breasts, the fatty deposits intended for feeding young, are expected to be hidden bc this kink (which everyone refuses to call a kink or a fetish or what have you) is seen as so universal. It's seen as immutable fact that there is a sexual nature to them. Feet however? If someone's into that that's a kink or a fetish if you're feeling kind, an obsession that makes you strange and worthy of examination and explanation if you're not.

I'm not arguing for doing away with calling things hobbies or kinks- I'm actually advocating for calling more normative things those words actually- I think it's just helpful to see where the framing of something, the way in which we choose to examine it, also has a lot to say about that which we leave unexamined, and unnamed. Because we don't categorize the normal.

[hearts401]

shoutout to cassel and lila for SUCKING!!!!! I HATE THEM!!!!!!!!!

[titsthedamnseason]

once again thinking of how perfect the cobalt empire series would be if it was multi pov per book including them all or at least overlapping timelines like addicted / calloway

[keeps-ache]

the worst thing that has come out of me losing every art file from this year is that i can't just eyedrop palettes now. the world is agony