#idk what this is or why it happened and its really vague i know but im still in MOURNING ok
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quigzahhutt · 5 months ago
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hiiii could you please do sargebon + 💗? thank you sm 🫶🫶
ouhhhhh tenderness ....
for the kiss prompt ask game !
"💗 / slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft"
doomed lovers, non-racing, college au sargebon.... this request sent me down a rabbit hole and I somehow ended up with approximately 1.2k words of sargebon in front of me
The club was hot, sticky all around and it is absolutely not the environment Alex wants to be in right now.
But, Logan is here, and that's why he's here as well.
Logan had called him, his despairing voice crackly over the phone as music thumped loud enough for Alex to hear it on his end, the bass almost rattling the pencils on his desk.
He practically dropped everything to grab his keys at that point, a sickly drop of sweat forming along his eyebrow as he listened to Logan's strained breathing over the speaker. He had texted him the address earlier that day with a futile offer to come along; Alex had rejected him. He regrets it now.
Because Logan had sounded so unlike himself over the phone– he was frantic, panicked like when you remember you have a class in 20, and you're an hour commute away. He's always so cool, level headed, so him sounding like that made Alex's stomach churn something ugly.
Logan's shaky syllables echoed through his skull on the entire drive there; he had definitely broken multiple traffic laws, but he just had to remind himself that thie was for Logan's sakes. It would always be worth it for him.
Alex has to shove himself through body after body, almost feeling like he needs sunglasses with how bright the strobing lights are. He has no idea where Logan might be, and that thought horrifies him.
It shouldn't be so worrying– they're both adults; Logan has proven multiple times that he's capable of taking care of himself, and Alex feels silly being so worked up over it, but something about him tends to twist his heart that way.
It's like Logan has taken Alex's psyche and popped it into his mouth, swirled it around, tucked it under his tongue for safe keeping like a hard candy, left to melt until all that's left is Alex's raw, earnest core.
Sometimes Logan will laugh and it makes Alex feel 15 all over again; soft cheeks and Halo on his Xbox 360, immaturity slowly being replaced by taller bones and responsibilities. He makes Alex feel the same way he did when he got his first kiss, naive and full of teeth, desiring nothing but to eat the other person whole.
His train of thought is cut off once his eyes fall on a familiar slouched figure wedged into the furthest corner, crumpled into a soiled couch. He has his hands over his ears, and an uncharacteristic grimace has made itself home on his features.
Alex barely remembers walking up to him; someone had grumbled at him, told him to fuck off and watch where he's going, but none of that matters because Logan is safe, and he's looking at Alex with so much relief, like he's salvation.
He doesn't even attempt at talking to him– the music is too loud, the bass heady and overwhelming in their ears that it's basically pointless. Alex just grabs one of Logan's hands and carefully moves it away from his head so he can properly grasp it.
It's an imitation of something far too intimate for Alex's liking, the soft lines of Logan's smaller hand fitting gently into his own like it was carved for that very purpose.
The club is crowded, unsurprisingly considering it's a Friday night, and the wall of bodies has seemingly thickened since he arrived, so Alex tugs on Logan's hand a little too hard, ensures he sticks close. He didn't come all this way just to lose him again.
They eventually make it, and the sticky night air has never been such a blessing. The humidity tastes salty against his tongue and it's, in all honesty, a little too hot in Alex's opinion, but he can happily ignore it because Logan's finally relaxed, no longer wide-eyed and frightened like an alley cat.
He hasn't let go of Alex's hand, and he's pressed so close like he's afraid he might get lost again if he drifts too far. So, Alex shuffles, shifts his arm so it's wrapped around Logan's waist instead, safely securing him to his side.
The walk to the car isn't too far, but it's far enough that it gives both of them time to think. It let's Alex wonder– wonder why that whenever Logan is nearby, he feels like he should run away and hide, overwhelmed by emotions he hasn't felt since year 8. Why is it only Logan who's capable of tapping into the most beastial parts of Alex's psyche. Why is it him that can make him feel so scared and so brave all at once.
Logan murmuring something into his shoulder pulls him out of his own head, and Alex instinctually grasps Logan tighter to his torso when they walk past a group of rowdy teenagers, bottles of alcohol hanging loosely in their hands.
"What was that, sorry?" Alex whispers, wanting desperately to keep this moment between them, exclude themselves from all outside forces even though they're walking along a very public street.
"I said 'm sorry. I was being stupid, 'nd I only- I wanted..." Logan suddenly scoffs, a hard, labored breath that seems like it surprised him more than anyone, "I'll just tell you in the car,"
Alex just mumbles a soft 'okay' and leaves it at that, trusting that Logan will actually tell him, instead of doing his usual song and dance of avoid-distract-forget. Except Alex doesn't forget, he never does; how could he when there's been a conversation hanging between them that they should've had months ago.
"Here we are," Alex says a bit too loudly, miming triumph as he gestures towards the car. He cheers a bit mentally when Logan giggles, and when he pushes away to open the door, Alex spots an easy-going smile on his lips. It's ridiculously relieving seeing it, reassures him that this is still his Logan, and not some random kid he plucked off the street.
Although, that is kind of what happened. His roommate at the time was moving out and he had mentioned that there was a transfer student coming here for a semester, an American, who's housing plans had bailed on him, and Alex had rolled his eyes. He was absolutely not going to house an American.
But here he is, picking up said American at half past 1 in the morning from some club in the middle of town. And now that same American is slithering his hand over the center console, clumsily lacing his fingers with Alex's own.
"I was only going to go if you came with me, but then you kind of shot me down and I guess I felt... I dunno, betrayed?" Logan speaks slowly, and his words feel like they from the middle of a sentence that Alex didn't hear.
"I only wanted to be there with you."
The confession sends a dizzying pang of guilt through Alex's sternum, and he can't think up a reply. All he can do is bring Logan's hand up to his lips, pressing them gently against the soft flesh on the back of his hand.
It's hardly even a kiss, or really anything of the sort, and Alex can't begin to explain why he does it, only that it felt like the only appropriate response. Tenderness for the sake of articulating something he's been incapable of for months.
"I'm sorry, I should have been there with you," Alex mumbles into the back of Logan's hand.
When Alex finally chances a look back at him, Logan is already meeting him there, his eyes hooded and so exhausted, bogged down from the alcohol in his system. He can't help but unclasp his hand from Logan's and drag it up to thumb at his jaw, heal whatever ache might be present.
Logan is practically sitting on the center console now, and they're both leaning in, the closest they've ever been to each other, and yet it still feels like there's still a monumental distance between them.
"Alex," Logan whispers, "we should've- so long ago-"
"I know, I know," and their lips finally meet.
thank you for the request❤️
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talkorsomething · 7 months ago
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want to cut my hair again like you wouldn't believe. What are the possible consequences of going bald
#100% секретный дневник левы НЕ ЧИТАЙ#actually i dont mean bald i just mean all one guard length#but hhhhh maybe i'm in an awkard stage maybe not i just CANNOT live like this#middle part is frustrating because it's not perfect in the way it sits side part is frustrating because i look like a girl#i feel like i could go all in with the 4 and then sorta texture a bit with the 2 guard HOWEVER having used the 4 previously. i know#how short that is. it might not look good so i worry#the bright side is it would grow out a bit by the time of the parade but augh i hate this#i'm currently a tightly wound ball of rage sorry. i didn't eat much of anything 2day#tried to call the hospital to get help with the letter/consulation thing preceding top surgery and they were NOT OPEN so idk if they will#be open tomorrow or not. the passage of time has gotten very vague all of a sudden#iiiiiii do not think i am doing well. lol. idk why though! god forbid any of it have a reason#i almost wish i'd relapse just so i could like. eat food again#idk i don't think it would solve it but i feel in my heart it might make things easier#buuuut because relapse is Bad For Me i guess i have to avoid it. well i want to anyways.#one bad day would not a reset make but my previous day happened this year already so...#i dunno it's been so long that i feel like it's not valid or whatever cause it was at an age where i can say it was a 'phase'#.............. i dunno what to do with that information. anyways.#i mean so what if i went all in on it again anyways? i kinda miss it lol. it's not like i could do any serious harm??#(potential infections aside.)#i just want to be creative and i CANT because my stupid brain will NOT think of anything#and the majority of what i have concretely written of this was written... get this .... right when i was trying to stay clean at first#correlation does not equal causation ........ sighs#i feel like i'm fighting a losing battle because i WANT IT to be that bad again#i've never really regretted it & it's never really been because of anything#i just started because i was curious about why someone would do that. that's all#i dont think i've EVER had any of the mental distress i see people in when theyre in these spaces#in one journal entry i made this big deal about wanting to kill myself but *i didn't want to*. i never did.#like sorry old me but it is REALLY hard to believe i've ever been depressed depressed#i just want things to be better and they never are :/ this should be everything i wanted and its just ... not#i'm not really sure how to ....... oh tag limit ok hold on
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the-kneesbees · 8 months ago
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uggh I'm gonna cry
#i lowkey miss when i had no friends 😭#i got invited to my friends birthday party and i really really didnt want to go#cause theres like 10 other people going and i vaguely know 2 of them#and theyre all kinda mean#like in the way your friends are mean where its clearly a joke#but im not friends with any of them-#qnd like in any other circumstance it would be fine#but its a POOL party#and there was no chace i was putting on a bathing suit and swimming#but i also was not ready to deal with being the weirdo who doesnt swim at a pool party#like i was really dreading this party#so i made some lame excuse#which is technically true#my brother DID break q bone today and my parents ARE being dramatic and i AM gonna have to wait on him#but thats not q good reason not to go#i was just really freaking out about this party#and its prob not a big deal and she definitely doesn't care as much as i think#but i feel so bad for being flaky#plus i already feel like a couple people there dont like me#so if my friend mentions why i didnt go theyre gonna think its a dumb excuse#i should have made something up but i had already said yes cause i couldnt think of anything#and then my parents wrre at the hospital for a really long time so i didnt know what exactly was happening#and i did genuinely think when i texted her that it was more serious and there would be no chance they could take me#qlso they both have stuff to do tomorrow (party day)#and i am actually gonna end up being the one helping him get water and stuff#but it just feels like such a lame excuse#idk#its just when im with these people (the ones going that im not friends with)#i constantly feel like i hace something to prove or theyll think im weird#and its so stressful
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evangelifloss · 10 months ago
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Thinking about a certain scene in Dungeon Meshi that completely encapsulates the Autistic experience of making friends as an adult and how hard it is to try and navigate it without ending up getting hurt.
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Like IDK about y'all, but this is a common problem ALOT of Autistic Adults face when trying to make friends with other people, because unlike children who aren't good at keeping their opinions to themselves, Adults ARE. In society, we're even encouraged to "keep the peace" "be polite" and etc, which commonly leads to awful scenarios as shown above when Laois finds out his buddy has come to resent who Laois is without actually telling him. All too often the friends that we love to hang out with, people that we're so happy to spend time with, don't feel the same way and in many cases, come to blame us for our social cues or lack thereof.
And when/if we do eventually find out how our friend feels, Dungeon Meshi hits us with another painful panel of how that usually ends up playing out.
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It's hard for Adults with Autism to make friends, and even harder to maintain them because alot of the ways Neurotypicals tell other Neurotypicals that they don't like a certain behavior is by quietly disengaging. Whether that involves having one sentence answers, going quiet, or having a certain tone in their voice, all those things signal annoyance or disapproval, but for the Neurodivergents, those subtle cues are completely missed.
And yet when we inevitably discover we DID do something, it is natural to ask "well why didn't you tell me?" because in our minds, it should've been the next step in the equation. However for the Neurotypicals, that's NOT something to bring up. Its important to be SUBTLE about the issue at hand and rely on signals to tell the other person. Blame is placed on us for not noticing the "obvious" signs of disapproval rather than the idea of talking it out as such things are uncomfortable and harder to do. Alot of the time what ends up happening is resentment due to the idea that it was "obvious" and the fact one didn't notice indicates a deliberate ignorance rather than a complete unawareness. It ends up calling into question our quality as a person and our sincerity. We get called "fake" or "malicious" or even "stupid" for failing social cues rather than questioning the decision to be indirect and vague.
For a manga about exploring the dungeon, it seems that the artist would rather explore very real and prevalent dynamics in society with the adventuring premise as a backdrop. I felt VERY seen in these panels, and many others, because it happens so suddenly and dare I say it, plainly. There's no dramatic build-up or spectacle made and in essence, it just Happens.
I think that's what makes the scene hit even harder. It seemingly comes out of nowhere for Laois, like how it always comes out of nowhere for alot of people, and it's never a dramatic twist either. It's always mundane and hurtful. A sudden unforeseen bump in the road that ends up calling into question one's entire friendship with someone and consequent other friendships. It asks "what if other friends feel the same. What if the people that I really like actually hate me and I don't know it?" Or at least that's what I came away with after reading the chapter. I've been where Laois was and the only reason I'm not there now is because I lost the naivete I had and doubt everyone else's sincerity.
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saiintvalentiine · 4 months ago
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Summary: Ken walks into the aftermath of Parrot finding out Wifies is actually a clone. He should be given sainthood for how little he kills Parrot. Part 2 now out!
notes: this is so not edited lol i wrote this in like. 3 hours between tasks at work. rip. this is vaguely set in the most recent UU episode in that i needed a setting and also a reason for ken wifies and parrot to be in the same place at once. no spoilers for the episode its just alluded to being the setting. uhhhh. i think thats it. enjoy. divider from here.
word count for the curious: 2678. allegedly.
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Ken arrives in the meeting room with a hop in his step. He’s been looking for Wifies everywhere, but Dean let him know that Wifies was talking with Parrot, and now Ken can finally show him the little tricky trap he’s been working on! He’s proud of himself. It’s a really good design! So he’s hopping into the room like a rabbit instead of a cat.
Parrot stands alone at the head of the table, back to the door. Just Parrot.
Bleh.
“Yo,” Ken greets even though he still feels the urge to whack Parrot across the head occasionally. “I thought Wifies was here?”
“Did you know?” Parrot asks.
Ken can feel every single part of his body prickle with discomfort. He’s glad that Parrot isn’t looking at him, so he has a chance to lower his shoulders, and tail, and ears. And attitude. He knows, somehow, what exactly Parrot means by knowing. Ken shuts the door silently.
“Know what?” Ken asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Don’t play dumb Ken. Did you know about Wifies being a clone?”
Ken breathes in slowly. He pulls his comm out and checks the playerlist. Wifies is gone. He was here only a few minutes ago when Ken last checked, which means that whatever happened, just happened.
“Did he tell you that?” Ken asks, opening Wifies’s chat.
[_Kenadian_]: where are you?
“You know, I was so confused,” Parrot turns around, eyes distant and face blank. “When I first met him, he was such a fucking asshole. Entirely full of himself. Still the smartest guy I’d ever met, though, so when all this stuff started happening on the server, I couldn’t help but think of him. I thought I was gonna regret inviting him, yet he was so quiet and nice now.”
[_Kenadian_]: wifies
[_Kenadian_]: seriously where are you
“He was always reserved, even before, but all these little things started coming up— he couldn’t remember things well, he’d talk about weird things in his sleep, things like that. And I couldn’t even. . . I didn’t know how to piece it together, and he wouldn’t talk to me!”
[_Kenadian_]: wato
[Wato1876]: Hey!
[_Kenadian_]: have you heard from wifies
[Wato1876]: No?
[Wato1876]: Isn’t he on unstable w/ you right now?
[_Kenadian_]: he left and isnt answering my messages
[_Kenadian_]: parrot found out, idk how, and now wifies is /gone/
[Wato1876]: ok I’ll check around for him
[_Kenadian_]: thx
“Are you even listening?” Parrot asks, and Ken finally looks up at him. His expression is one of desperation. It disgusts Ken.
“No,” Ken says, voice bone dry. “You yelled at him didn’t you? God Parrot, and I was just starting to respect you.”
“He lied to me this whole time!” Parrot explodes, eyes wild as he leans his hand on the table. “From the start, he hid this from me, and I only found out by— by sheer coincidence! He was talking to someone on his comm, and said something about being a clone, and I just—”
“Wait, who was he talking to?” Ken interrupts with a frown.
“I— I don’t know, they had a deep voice, talked really particularly?”
“Must’ve been Retro. . . Retro knows?” Ken mutters to himself.
The shame Wifies stews in every day because of his clone status is something Ken hasn’t been able to push past; Wifies always says he owes his life to Ken, but rarely does he bother to share his burdens with him either. Which means at least Retro seems to be getting through to him. . . It stings a little, but Ken has bigger fish to fry.
“So you did know!”
“Parrot, why do you care!” Ken snaps, turning back to his comm and searching for Retro’s contact information. Shit. He should’ve nabbed it off of Wifies earlier. “You drove him off! He’s not your fucking problem now, shouldn’t you be happy?! There! You cleaned your friends list of liars! Aren’t you satisfied with your work?!”
“I just wanted to know the truth, I didn’t want to drive him off! He's not a problem to get rid of!”
“Well great fucking job, man, go kick rocks or something. Fuck, where did he go?!”
[Wato1876]: Found him. He’s at the factory.
[Wato1876]: Ken, his comm is cracked right in half. He’s stuck here again.
Ken feels everything in him rear like a lion. He closes his comm and tucks it into his pocket. Slowly, oh so slowly, he stalks around the table towards Parrot, holding the hilt of his sword in a loose grip. Parrot follows his path with his eyes, feathers puffing out and fists clenched.
“Did you break his comm, Parrot?” Ken asks casually.
“No,” Parrot replies.
“Parrot. Tell me the truth. Did you break Wifies’s comm? Even by mistake?” Ken’s gums ache. He’ll dig his teeth into Parrot’s thin throat. He’ll rip his flimsy little esophagus out.
“No, no. I didn’t. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know if you wouldn’t, Parrot, but I swear to everything you hold dear, if I find out it was you who broke his comm, you are going to wish I had just killed you instead,” Ken hisses out.
“His comm is broken?” Parrot echoes faintly, and it’s like gravity returns to his world, his feet landing back in reality.
“I don’t think you deserve an answer, Parrot, but yes.”
Ken tries to breathe through his anger. He’s going to believe Parrot for now.
[_Kenadian_]: ill be there soon
[Wato1876]: Bring a replacement comm?
“I was mad,” Parrot sounds wretched. “But not— I don’t care that he’s a clone Ken. I just felt like he didn’t trust me.”
Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder. Killing Parrot would make Wifies even sadder.
“I never trusted you, Parrot, not once, not for a single moment, but you made Wifies happy. I don’t know what he sees in you, but he was happy playing second fiddle to your stupid little orchestra on here, y’know? So I tried very hard to get along with you, so Wifies could stay happy,” Ken lets go of the hilt of his sword to press a sharp nail into Parrot’s chest. “You don’t understand the state I found him in before he came here, before you roped him into your stupid little games. He—”
Ken’s voice cracks and he curses, indistinct and abstract. He hates this. Leave it to Parrot to fuck everything up, just like Ken always knew he would with his lack of foresight and planning and brain. Parrot snaps up to grab Ken’s hand in a tight grip.
“Ken, I didn’t want him to leave me,” Parrot chokes out. “I just wanted to know, I just—”
“And look at where your wanting got him!” Ken spits out, yanking his hand away. “You want, and want, and want, Parrot do you even care what your wanting costs the rest of the world? What it costs Wifies?”
“He never says anything to me, he never—”
“Do you ever ask?! God Parrot, get out of your head for a minute!”
Ken runs a hand through his hair. Where is he gonna find a replacement comm? He might have something in one of the prison servers he frequents, but his head is scrambled, he can’t quite sort through his inventory in his head to figure out what he has right now. He may have one in his escape kits. . .
“Ken,” Parrot breathes. He finally realized what he’s done, it seems. Ken wants to stab him in the stomach. “Ken, I care about Wifies more than anyone else. You know that right? He knows that right?”
Ken pulls at his roots.
“I don’t know anything about Wifies right now,” Ken finally says, exhaustion creeping into him as his adrenaline runs dry. “I can’t contact him right now. He gets. . . bad, when it comes to the clone stuff. God, Parrot, what the hell have you done?”
Ken doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves the server and lands in his solo world, scrambling around his storage before finding a dusty old comm he hasn’t used since he customized his current one. Landing near the factory is always a displeasure, but he pushes his feelings aside and enters. It takes a little searching, but he finds Wifies and Wato in the office, laid out on the floor next to each other.
“Wifies,” Ken says, more to say something than having anything to say, and he sits next to Wifies.
“Sorry for scaring you,” Wifies says. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are bloodshot. “My comm broke. I dropped it while it was open, and I fell on it.”
“I brought you an old one I had laying around,” Ken says, bringing a hand up and running his fingers through Wifies’s curls slowly. Wifies closes his eyes. “What happened?”
Wifies doesn’t answer at first, just breathes evenly and relaxes each part of his body. He's so tense. Ken wishes he had killed Parrot.
“Parrot found out,” Wifies whispers. “I was talking to Retro. He’s been. . . helping me decipher some stuff from the notes. It was important. And I called him, and Parrot heard, and he was livid. That I hadn’t told him. That he couldn’t trust me. So I left.”
“He’s an asshole,” Wato says, and both Wifies and Ken turn to look at him in shock. “What?”
“Wato, there’s a reason why we’re such good friends,” Ken says with a grin. “Because I, too, believe Parrot is an absolute asshole.”
“You guys always knew, but I lied to him,” Wifies says. “I don’t know if he’s an asshole for being upset I didn’t tell him.”
“Yes he is,” Ken and Wato say together.
“There’s no reason to defend him out here,” Ken scolds, scratching Wifies’s scalp lightly.
“I don’t hate him, Ken,” Wifies lets out a deep, winding sigh before sitting up slowly. “Can I have the comm? I need to message Retro. Tell him everything’s okay.”
“Fine.”
Ken hands over the comm and Wifies thanks him faintly. As he boots it up and logs in, Wato sits up and gives Ken a look. Ken returns the look. Before they can descend upon Wifies and force him to talk about his feelings, the comm begins pinging wildly, messages flooding in and not stopping. Peeking over Wifies’s shoulder, Ken makes a disgusted expression at Parrot’s chat being at the top of Wifies’s DMs. Parrot is absolutely spamming Wifies’s inbox. Ken’s going to eat him for dinner.
“Ah,” Wifies says. He then proceeds to ignore Parrot to text Retro. Good. Fuck that guy.
“What does he want?” Ken asks, not because he really cares but because if Parrot pisses him off again, he can justify going at him with an axe.
“Maybe. . . Maybe not right now,” Wifies’s voice is weak.
The messages roll to a stop. Good! And then Ken’s comm starts ringing off like shots. Goddamn it. Ken pulls out his comm. It is Parrot. Awful. Now Wifies and Wato move to peek over his shoulder as his inbox becomes utterly unusable.
[Parrotx2]: Ken
[Parrotx2]: I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: not to you
[Parrotx2]: well I can be sorry to you too but I’m sorry that I reacted like that to Wifies
[Parrotx2]: and I just need him to know that I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and I know you hate my guts
[Parrotx2]: but you said he was happy right? I made him happy
[Parrotx2]: I don’t think I’ve ever made someone happy by just existing
[Parrotx2]: cause fuck, it’s not like I’ve done anything for him
[Parrotx2]: Ken what the fuck did I do
[Parrotx2]: please just let him know I’m sorry
[Parrotx2]: and that I didn’t mean to blow up
[Parrotx2]: you’d think I’d be used to betrayal but with him, it felt so much worse than betrayal
[Parrotx2]: like I had failed to be trustworthy
[Parrotx2]: the reveal was a lot, but I felt more hurt than disgusted or scared
[Parrotx2]: I don’t care if he’s a clone
[Parrotx2]: I mean I care if he wants me to care. I want him to want me to care about him.
[Parrotx2]: I care about him in general
[Parrotx2]: plus whoever the guy before him was was a bitch
[Parrotx2]: he’s like so much better in a million ways
[Parrotx2]: not the point
[Parrotx2]: the point is my caring of him is not reliant on his clone status
[Parrotx2]: I can tell he’s got a comm now cause my messages are showing up as received
[Parrotx2]: does he hate me now?
[Parrotx2]: he has every right
[Parrotx2]: I can’t even pretend that he shouldn’t hate me
[Parrotx2]: Ken I don’t want him to hate me
[Parrotx2]: I don’t know if I can live with that
[Parrotx2]: I fucked up so badly
[Parrotx2]: the worst part is I trust him
[Parrotx2]: I made this whole fuss about trust and I still trust him
[Parrotx2]: of course I do, he’s the single most trustworthy person I’ve ever met
[Parrotx2]: I’ve slept in the same room as him for months and I never even worried
[Parrotx2]: he could’ve left or betrayed me or killed me literally at any point
[Parrotx2]: and he never did! even if it would’ve made his life easier
[Parrotx2]: what the fuck was I thinking?
“Ugh. Do you wanna talk to him right now?” Ken asks, turning his head towards Wifies. He gets a face full of sweet smelling curly hair.
“. . . I don’t know,” Wifies says, resting his chin snuggly onto Ken’s shoulder.
[_Kenadian_]: can you shut up. jesus.
[Parrotx2]: sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yes he has a comm now
[_Kenadian_]: he’ll talk to you when he talks to you
[_Kenadian_]: you made him cry yknow
“Ken!” Wifies hisses, cheek warming up where it’s now pressed to the side of Ken’s throat. “Why did you tell him that?”
[Parrotx2]: fuck I’m sorry
[_Kenadian_]: yeah he knows
[_Kenadian_]: just
[_Kenadian_]: give him some space
[_Kenadian_]: also dont text me like that whats wrong with you
[_Kenadian_]: i want you so dead its not even funny
[_Kenadian_]: this is the SECOND time you make him cry
“Ken!!”
[Parrotx2]: I
[Parrotx2]: what?
[_Kenadian_]: wouldnt you like to know bird boy
[Parrotx2]: why would you tell me that
[_Kenadian_]: you need to understand the consequences of what you do
[_Kenadian_]: wifies never lets you see but i do and i think you should writhe
[_Kenadian_]: you care so much? lets see.
[_Kenadian_]: writhe bird boy writhe
“That’s mean,” Wifies says as Ken closes his comm, but he doesn’t move a single muscle.
“You should’ve made it worse,” Wato says. “Should’ve told him Wifies was comatose or something.”
“Jeez, since when are you so vicious?” Wifies asks, but Ken is almost certain he and Wato are holding hands behind Ken’s back.
“I approve,” Ken says, bumping his head into Wato’s lightly. “Anyway, take as long as you want to ignore Parrot. Forever, even. I’d also approve of forever.”
Wato hums in agreement. Wifies sighs again, much lighter than before.
“Just a little while,” he says to Ken’s vast displeasure. “Just until I can stomach it. I shouldn’t have run away.”
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want, actually. Forever.”
Wifies giggles, and Ken finally feels himself relax a little. If Wifies is laughing, then it’ll be okay. He still feels anger pulsing within him like a second heartbeat, but it softens when Wifies bumps the top of his head into Ken's cheek. Not gone, never gone, but quietened enough to let Wifies speak for himself.
Ken trusts Wifies despite his own opinion. So he'll keep true and hold Wifies close no matter what.
“We still gotta talk about your feelings,” Wato says, and Wifies whines, trying to hide his face further into Ken's shoulder. 
“It's so embarrassing,” he murmurs.
“I'd be embarrassed too if I cried over Parrot of all people,” Ken deadpans. 
Wifies groans. Ken won't let him get away this time.
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catsfor2 · 2 years ago
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hit me, part 2
wc: 2.5k, largely unedited warnings: swearing/language, talk of homophobia, physical injury a/n: omg hey. this part takes place directly after part 1. things are starting to happen...!also idk shit about shit so don't come at me for the medical stuff if its wrong :) tags: @elliewilliamsmunch@intrnetdoll@me-and-your-husbandur-husband@3zae-zae3@milahnoz@elliescumm@dragonasflowercrown
part 1
part 1.5
"So...where are we going?"
"It's a clearing. In the woods." Ellie's hands lazily slide around the steering wheel as she speaks. You could daydream while staring at Ellie for hours. It's relaxing to watch her drive.
"Hm. Are you gonna...kill me there? Or something?" You joke.
"Still deciding."
"Oh my—are you seriously still mad?"
She says nothing, pretending to be engaged with driving.
You let out an irked breath.
"Okay—Ellie, I'm sorry. I was wasted out of my mind. And you look really different. Like, not just in your face. Everywhere is different." You confess, fiddling with the stickers peeling off of her dashboard.
"So do you. I still managed to fuckin' figure it out."
"I—I think I almost did? I remember looking at you and feeling really—confused, mostly. I didn't understand why I liked this stranger so much." You say, vaguely remembering how clingy and overt you acted last night.
"You were confused? I was fucking confused," her head swivels to yours. "a lesbian? That's what you are now?"
"Don't—don't say it like that. I came out like everyone else. You just weren't there to hear it."
Ellie lets out a choked laugh.
"Oh, Bullshit."
"Excuse me?"
"I wrote you and called you for fucking months. Nothing. A letter a fucking day. Are you listening? Do you know how many letters that is?"
You stay silent. Your hands ball up where they rest on your lap.
"Fuckin' say something! I even asked Dina for your number but you cut her off too! Is there a reason you basically fucking died?"
"I wasn't home, Ellie."
She stills, her shoulders relaxing a touch. She adjusts back towards the road before clearing her throat.
"At...at sixteen? What happened?"
You recall you, sixteen, sobbing and frantic. Tearing apart the letter Ellie wrote to tell you that she left. Wondering why it felt more like a breakup then your actual one did. Cursing yourself over and over and over again for only being sixteen. Your parents cursing Ellie for corrupting you.
"I feel like you can connect the dots." Your voice is just barely loud enough to hear over the droning tone of the car. The only focus you had at this point was trying not to cry in front of Ellie.
"Oh, fuck, y/n. I'm—I'm sorry. Did those fuckers kick you out?"
"No," you sigh. "I just knew I had leave. They're...crazy. I don't know. I'm fine now."
Her knuckles flex and tense over the steering wheel. Her teeth start to bite at her lips. There's a couple more seconds of quiet before she speaks up.
"I wish I would've been there."
You pause, not totally expecting what she said.
"Yeah," you breathe, gazing at the side of her head. "I wished that too."
And that wasn't a lie. Your family instilled a lot on you, mostly turning you away from religion. But then? You were desperate. Painfully, achingly desperate. And completely alone. After you left home, you prayed every single night. A genuine prayer, on your knees and everything. You even bought a $1.50 pocket bible from goodwill. All to aide in your bedtime routine of begging God to make Ellie come back.
She never did. You've been an atheist ever since. You weren't sure if her being here now changed anything.
The silence marinates for a short while longer until you feel the rocky texture of a gravel road beneath the car.
"We're here," Ellie states, throwing the gear in park. She takes a glance at your feet. "and you should've worn better shoes. We have walking to do."
You both hop out of the car.
"Like you couldn't have told me before we left?" You scoff.
"It's more fun to fuck with you later. C'mon," she grabs your hand, tightly clutching it in hers. "there's coyotes and shit around here. Don't be fuckin' stupid and stay close."
You try to will the warmth away from your cheeks. You've never held Ellie's hand before. Even if this doesn't really count as holding.
"Yeah, got it." You force out.
She leads you into the trees, hand warmly on yours, briskly following a mental path she's clearly walked many times.
"I almost got arrested over here," She sighs, far too casually.
"What?!"
"Damn—I said almost, chill." She assures, laughing at your shock.
You lightly slap her shoulder.
"I don't care! Almost getting arrested is still crazy!" You chide, eyes wide and judgmental.
Ellie's always been pretty...rebellious, but a part of you always thought that she'd be smart enough to avoid anything truly consequential. I guess she still is, you think.
"Lemme explain, ok. I was high as fuck, minding my business, when I saw some kids shootin'—a wolf, I think? Maybe a coyote—I saw them just...fuckin' up this poor thing with a—a BB gun."
"Oh my god..." You say, "What did you do?"
"I didn't do shit at first—I thought they'd stop. But they were like—about to kill this thing, I swear to God. So, I...ha..." Her face breaks into a wide smile. "you're not gonna like this,"
"...What. Not gonna like what."
"I pulled my gun on 'em."
"Ellie!"
"It wasn't even loaded, y'know I like to have it with me just in case..."
"They're kids!—"
"Asshole kids. Ok? And it fuckin' worked so—"
"I thought you said you almost got arrested?"
"Jesus—I did. You keep interrupting me—"
"Sorry." You quip, also realizing you just interrupted her with your apology.
"It's—it's fine. Anyway, those fucks called the cops on me after they ran. I found out cause the fuckin' pigs stopped me and asked if I'd seen an 'armed gunman in the area,'" She says, imitating a deep 'cop' voice. "dumbasses had no clue it was me."
You watch as she laughs, amused at her own story. Suddenly, your foot gets caught under a thick root and your arms fly out in an instant.
Ellie's hands hit your shoulders, grasping them upright, causing you to sharply crash into her chest.
"Oh—shit, sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." You gasp out, trying to regain your balance while loosening your grip on Ellie's coat.
"No, it's those fuckin' shoes," she rebukes, hands still resting on your shoulders. She immediately takes them off you when she notices. "we're almost there anyway. Try not to kill yourself before then."
Your hand burns at your side, palm itching. Is she going to grab it again?
"Where's 'there'?" You ask, glancing around at the wall of trees and shrubbery encircling you both.
"You'll see. Just stay close." She repeats like before, clutching your hand once again.
You tighten your grip, wanting to show Ellie you're listening.
"Good. Let's move."
The two of you walk for about a mile or so more, before the view steals your eyes and you both freeze.
"Oh—wow, Ellie. This is really pretty," you breathe, entranced by the piercingly vibrant colors and towering mountainous structures.
Her head is turned toward you, taking in your reaction to the sight, instead of the sight itself.
She's must've seen it so many times, you think.
"Yeah, you like it? I knew you would." She tells you, unable to keep the satisfied grin from her face.
"Shut up. I'm still mad you didn't even let me get ready this morning."
"There's nobody here. Who're you fuckin' getting ready for?" She barks, arms wide and gesturing.
I still wanted to get ready for you, Ellie. But obviously you don't say that.
"Whatever. You just did it to be a dick." You mutter, plopping yourself down onto the boulder in front of you.
"Yeah, I did. It's funny when you're mad. You're like a cat." She laughs, sitting down next to you.
"That's toxic. You shouldn't make people mad just cause you find it funny." You chide, crossing your legs over the rock.
"Guess I'm toxic, then." She sighs, carelessly throwing pebbles at your head.
"Was that the plan? Sit on a rock and be mean to me?"
"Truly adorable that you think this is mean—"
"Well it's not nice, that's for sure." You huff.
Ellie shifts so that her body faces yours. Her legs spread out wide, elbows comfortably resting on her thighs.
"I don't think you want me to be nice to you."
Your mouth parts open in surprise, eyes now burning into Ellie's.
"Well that's a lie. I'd love for you to be nice—"
"I think you like when I'm mean to you. I think you...prefer it, actually." She juts, a confident smile forming.
"Yeah, and who told you that, Dina?" You question, crossing your arms as a breeze starts to make you shiver.
"Nobody told me anything." her head quirks to the side. "I can just tell."
It was difficult to keep your composure. There were some things Ellie seemed to know about you that you didn't even know yourself. It was terrifying, embarrassing, and flattering all at once. Your face feels like its melting. You stay silent.
"Oh—am I right? I've totally got you, haven't I?" She asks, enjoying fully the power she seems to have over you and your emotions.
"No." You bite, unwilling to try and say anything else.
You hated how often Ellie was right.
She takes a ball of black fabric from her pocket, tossing it in your lap. It's a hat.
"Put it on. It's cold."
A swarm of bats fly over the both of you, chaotic and eruptive.
"It's gonna be dark, Ellie."
"I know, I know. I was, uh—saving the best for last." She quips, hopping off of the rock to stand in front of you.
It felt kind of awkward this way, Ellie fully standing while you sat. You had to look straight up to meet her eyes. It put your head in whirl.
"What, the tattoo? I saw that already."
"No. Something else," She grabs your hand and places it on the bottom hem of her top. Your heart beats a little faster.
"Lift up my shirt."
Your eyes widen as your hand fidgets. You wait for her to keep talking. She doesn't.
"Um...like all the way?" You struggle to find words. "Or—"
"Lift up," her hand grasps yours, guiding it up. "my shirt."
Fabric shifts and the pale flesh of her abdomen comes into view. Her belly is lean—all hard edges and dense muscle. What catches your eye is the long, winding, angry scar tracing along her hip.
Your brain goes into overdrive.
Traumatic injury, surgery needed... most likely...flexor or... IT band tendonitis? Maybe, what, Bursitis? Something...invasive—a tear? Labral tear? Iliopsoas tear? What the fuck was she doing?
"Street fighting." She states. "It's my job."
Your face is blank. You shakily stand.
"Uhhh—you, you better be fucking with me, Ellie." You stutter out. Unconsciously, you move to trace your finger along the scar, feeling the warped, healed skin. "I mean this is...this is serious. This is...surgery."
"Don't I fuckin' know it," she moves her shirt back down, covering the scar. "took me out of the ring for like, eight weeks."
"Jesus—Jesus Christ. How long have you been doing this!?"
"Not much longer than you've been in school, really."
"So, not long. Is what you're saying." your fingers rake through your hair. "This is...this is fucking crazy."
"It's not that—"
"Dina's okay with this? Really. I really don't see how she could be okay with this, like, at all." You argue, cutting her off.
"She wasn't. I had to convince her."
"And how often do you go to the doctor? Once a week? Or do you pretend like you know how to patch yourself up?"
Her face slightly reddens.
"I—I learned how to do it myself. I know how."
"Oh sure. Did you google it? I'm sure google will save you from a life threatening injury."
"Ok, most of them are not 'life threatening'—"
"You don't know that! Not certainly, at least! Not certain enough to be safe!" You exclaim, voice full of anger, but mostly, fear.
She places a hand on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. She doesn't talk until you meet her eyes.
"Hey. I am fine. The hip thing was a fluke. Honest. Most of the time nothing fuckin' happens." She assures, her other hand rubbing up and down your arm. You must've looked more upset than you'd realized.
"Ok."
"Just, 'ok'? Are we...good now?" Ellie asks, blue eyes still deeply connected to yours.
"Um...yeah..." You say, partly hesitating. Ellie watches you closely.
"I wanna go with you."
Her face lights up in...shock?, you think, a pleased grin shaping her mouth.
"What—really?"
"If you really want to do...this," you bite your lip. "being there is what would make me feel...better...about it."
"Yeah? That's...I mean, I think that's great," She says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "my own cheerleader."
You step backwards, letting Ellie's hands slide away from your body.
"No, not a cheerleader. A fucking medic. So I'm not sitting home worried about you—dying. I can just be there to help if stuff goes wrong."
"I'm happy either way, princess." She gleams.
As the sun sets, it gets harder to make out the shape of her face. The woods are also quieter, amplifying the subtle sounds of you and Ellie. You wonder about the details of your plan.
"Do I have to pay to get in? How does this...work?"
"No, you're set. Pretty girls get in free—it's a club rule. Y'know, good for business and everything."
You thank the sky for it's darkness, as Ellie is unable to see the rosy hue reaching your cheeks.
"Oh. Okay...good to know."
Ellie steps up, and now familiarly, encloses your hand in hers.
"C'mon. It's too fuckin' dark to stay any longer."
You walk out of the clearing, back into the dense foliage of where you came. Your grip tightens.
"So...have you had girlfriend?" Ellie blurts.
"Um, weird question, but," you look away. "no."
"Just...trying to gauge how good of a lesbian you are. Pretty bad, it seems."
"Oh, fuck off. I've been focusing on...school." You retort, fully knowing how lame it sounds.
If you were being honest, it was just nerves. You didn't have to try for a boyfriend, he basically wouldn't even take 'no' for an answer. But with girls? It was like you froze.
"Hey I'd give you some tips but...I don't think they'd really...apply for you, y'know?"
"No, I don't know. Explain it." You demand.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying think of a way where it makes...sense. And won't make you mad."
"I won't get mad Ellie. Just say it." You encourage, now more curious than anything.
She stops walking and turns to you.
"Well, it's like...the roles. The roles you can have."
"What...roles...?"
She huffs a laugh before continuing, and positions her hand to point to herself.
"I'm the type that flusters the girl. The...fluster-er, right?"
She walks forwards, getting so close that you can smell the scents of the forest soaked up in her clothing.
"And you," She says, her finger poking your collarbone. "...are the girl that...is flustered. It's a...a dynamic, yeah?"
Your skin heats and all you can do is gaze at Ellie, who's completely enthused with this discussion. She stays quiet, watching your face intently, despite it being so dark.
"You're making stuff up again. I don't even—I don't even know why I let you talk." You utter.
"See? You're doing it already! It's the fuckin' dynamic princess—you know I'm never wrong." She gushes, pinching at your checks and making them even redder.
"This so stupid. And don't call me that."
It was like the world stopped. As soon as you said it, you could see Ellie's brain distinctly remembering you, in that whiny drunken voice, begging. You won't ever forget it. And neither will Ellie, for completely different reasons.
You knew exactly what she was going to say, so you try and stop her.
"Don't. I don't care what I did yesterday. Just—don't."
She sighs, clearly dropping it. Thank god. Her teeth bite the inside of her cheek.
"Whatever you say, princess."
You don't even acknowledge it, just rolling your eyes as you walk ahead. Stray branches brush over your legs and thighs, feeling like gentle scratches. You slow a bit, waiting for Ellie to join you.
And hold your hand again.
Stepping ahead of you to lead, Ellie does just that. The warmth makes you smile, and you let it own your face, bright and wide. You didn't care. It was dark enough.
"Alright. Stay close."
"I know, Ellie."
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soracities · 1 year ago
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how do you know when you're getting good at poetry? everybody dunks on halsey and rupi kaur's poetry, and i never really got why and idk if that's what i sound like
Honestly, I don't think there's ever a point at which you "know" you're getting good at poetry--I think "good" and "bad" are kind of vague and amorphous (and distracting) categories that don't do much in helping us understand the feel and impact of certain writing, chiefly because they can also be deeply subjective. How a poet views a particular work and how a reader views it will be very, very different because their relationship to the work is different. I also think "good" is a sort of external category that does not (or should not) carry into the act of writing itself--when you make "is this good?" the chief consideration as you write, you're not actually present in the writing: you're focused on the finished product, not the process, but the process is the most important thing: that's where the poem actually meets you. I think growth, in writing, is less about knowing if you're "good" in this regard, and more about being able to have confidence, or simply just trust, in the writing as it happens.
There's a famous saying somewhere that a work of literature is never "finished"--it just stops. I think skill, when it comes to writing, lies in recognising where this point is, in learning and developing how you navigate what it is you want to say, and how you say it. Some poems, eventually, reach a point where you can take them no further and you know there is nothing more to be said in them or through them. Some poems reach a point where you can take them no further, but there is still something left to be said in them. Those poems get revisited, worked, and reworked again, until they (maybe) get close to the first category: this may mean you work on them for a few weeks, or for years--but either way you are prioritizing the process of making the poem, not how it will be received. "Is this a good poem?" in my view at least, is not really the relevant question--what's relevant is "is this true to what I wanted to say?" Leonard Cohen famously wrote over 100 drafts of "Hallelujah"--I don't know if the central question for him here was just a matter of his skills as a songwriter.
Regarding Halsey and Rupi Kaur, I've only been able to read Halsey's poems through previews on Google Books so I don't know what other people's critiques are--based on what I saw, though, I don't know if it makes sense to criticize their quality as "poems" when she is primarily a songwriter and a lot of those poems wound up as songs. I'm more familiar with Rupi Kaur's writing, though, and others like her (Atticus, Michael Faudet etc), and while I have a personal policy of not getting into Kaur online (there's an ask here which is about as much as I'm willing to say regarding my feelings on her writing)--I can get into this trend or poetry "style" as a whole. And to be honest I think the chief issue here with poetry like this is that poetry, by definition, involves a deep and intimate relationship with language: this holds true regardless of whether the poem is simple, or complex, whether it's 5 lines long or goes on for 50 pages. As I said in that previous ask, it's not something you can reduce to a formula, nor is it a matter of mere reportage or a collection of statements: what makes a poem has nothing to do with line breaks (prose poems exist), but everything to do with how the language moves, how the language of a poem engages with its own content, with itself, and, as a result, with the reader.
The kind of work that proliferates on Instagram does not have that kind of engagement with language--they are, to me, pieces of information more than anything else. They reduce language to a series of stock phrases that act, not as actual words, but as images (and I don't mean this in a visually evocative way). It tries to evoke something that requires a thoughtful and sustained examination in order to be expressed, by surpassing the reality of what that examination actually requires. It tries to ape the effect of a powerful poem without the work that goes into actually being able to make that kind of a poem in the first place: and that work is a sustained encounter and confrontation with the language used and its relationship to what it tries to convey, in understanding that words are not interchangeable blocks you move around willy-nilly but that they have weight and intention, that they interact with each other to build up an idea or a feeling or a landscape in the most accessible way (insofar as language can make anything accessible, at least). But this is rarely, if ever, felt in IG poetry because it refuses to recognize or respect the demands and requirements of the medium it uses.
And because it is lacking in this engagement and recognition, these poems are also, for the most part, lacking sincerity--and this, to me, is one of the most crucial things when it comes to writing. I recall one IG poet whose work was in the same class as someone like Atticus, but I also recall one of his poems which genuinely moved me--and it moved me because, unlike everything else on his account, that poem felt sincere: the structure and the language wasn't any different to anything else he wrote, but in reading it, it was not a question for me of whether it was "bad" or "good"--what made the impact was that it was honest: and the difference showed. You can't come into a poem with ulterior motives. You can't come into it without an understanding, or respect, for the language you use. I'm absolutely not policing what people should or shouldn't read, and I'm not saying people are wrong for liking these poems, either, or that Halsey, Kaur, Atticus et al., are wrong for writing them. Expression is expression, and what speaks to you speaks to you. And to be honest, it is a different kettle of fish when you are writing something purely for yourself (and I think allowing yourself to partake in any kind of artform, without worrying about needing to be good at it, is deeply important for the human spirit)--but because they are putting their work out publicly, if we are going to be evaluating what they write and how they write it, that evaluation has to be rooted in an understanding of the art form they intend their work to be a part of.
For me, these are the main issues I have with these writers and their work and why I just do not like them. But I also want to stress that, ultimately, what you sound like in your own poems, anon, does not matter as much as being sincere to yourself does. As I said, I don' like using terms like "good" and "bad" and I think that often they're fairly reductive (and sometimes outright pointless) categories to use when we talk about and assess poetry--more than anything else, the key to building a robust and informed discernment when it comes to poems is to simply just read--read a lot of it and read widely. The broader and richer your repository of poetry (and literature in general) is, the more informed you are when it comes to all the different ways language can move through a poem, and all the different impacts it can have as a result. It deepens and enriches your understanding of all the different ways of looking at something, questioning something, expressing something. Your vocabularly grows and deepens; your net of associations--visual, linguistic etc--strengthens. And when this understanding grows you are able to place the things you read into a much wider and far more informed context. And this in turn allows you to grow as a reader and a writer. I hope this helps you a little, anon 💕
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the-dragon-girl-27 · 4 months ago
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Remember those other 3 times I turned sekai characters into dinos (L/N MMJ VBS) I'm back with more of that crap i know Wanshow fans just looove their AUs so maybe this will appeal to a whole 3 people instead of 2 people this time
explanation for my picks below the cut
Tsukasa is a Styracosaurus because I made Saki a Stellosaurus which is another ceratopsian and also its frill is like vaguely star shaped kinda sorta not really
I don't have much to say about him so can i just mention how awful that Stellasaurus drawing is.
Yeah only recently did i start figuring out how the fuck to draw decent ceratopsians I am so sorry (the struggle is real i almost accidentally gave tsukasa 2 left feet here i swear i know what i'm doing)
I should redo that Saki at some point, girl deserves so much better than that wonkey crap. speaking of ceratopsians i opted out of giving him protofeathers unlike Saki idk they just didn't look right on him you can kinda go either way with most ceratopsians so i just do it when the vibe fits and don't when the vibe doesn't fit
Rui is a Troodon because Troodons are often associated with intelligence because they have the biggest brain to skull ratio of any dino, there's kinda no real way to know how intelligent dinos were but troodon just has the reputation of the smart dinosaur and people often depict them using tools like how crows do and that's like kinda like how rui does robot stuff, he also just fits the raptor shape sorta i feel like raptors have that sorta look to them that is like a similar vibe to the one Rui has, even tho Rui is the tallest character in sekai I feel like he's a mid sized dinosaur, does that make sense? no, but it does to me and i make the rules he's also 100% a feathered dino so it fits
Speaking of Troodon all you 2 paleo nerds reading this are getting war flashbacks from the name Troodon because Troodon itself has a interesting history of being a "wastebasket taxon" which is nerd talk for "scientists just threw a bunch of vaguely similar animals into this one category and didn't consider that maybe this was like 5 different animals and what would be the long term consequences of doing that" yes this is a thing that has happened enough times that there is a word for it
that shit still as of now isn't sorted out I don't think, I at least based my Troodon off the big one from Alaska that literally does not have a fucking name and is just like "the Alaska Troodon". I feel like the size fits and imma be real its the Troodon you see everywhere in media these days because its big and cool and it lived with Pachyrhinosaurus and Nanuqsaurus and also people like it cuz drawing dinosaurs in the snow is fucking awesome (boom i just tricked you into learning paleontology history)
Emu is an Archeopteryx because Emu is supposed to be like a phoenix and Archeopteryx could probably fly or glide or smth it's general considered like "the first bird" so like yeah (now that i think about it i could've made her pyroraptor cuz of the name but also she doesn't fit the vibes of a raptor at all i guess pyroraptor has the whole fire bird thing from its name) Emu would also be a small feathered dinosaur for sure so it fits in that sense too.
Nene is a Stegosaurus because the plates kinda look like her hair thing and her outfit in general and i feel like nene would have those tail spikes for some reason idk it just fits her energy, she'd def be a herbivore as well i feel. Also i personally just associate stegosaurus with the color green personally idk why (at first i was thinking she would be iguanodon because that's another dinosaur that's green in my head but she has like nothing in common with iguanodon lmao)
I guess nenerobo would be an Ankylosaurus than because that would like probably be the logical robot version of a stegosaurus maybe idk would nenerobo exist in this universe, you decide idk
i guess next one is that last one unless i wanna redo the vocaloids in this style or redraw saki at some point or whatever see you whenever that happens in however long it takes
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ganondoodle · 10 months ago
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you know, i had a totk thought (uh oh)
soemthign thats really bothering me about the whole "actually, ganondorf didnt like the guy appearing out of nowhere marrying a hylian and just saying yep das our kingdom now and we can mine it barren under your nose and also i got laserbeam pebbles that i totally wont ever use on anyone come join me or die just bc of all of that but mainly bc the guy brought some weird tech with him that he dont like" - thing is that ......... we see almost not a single tech thing in the past (and for that matter see nothing of the oh so perfect and peaceful paradise hyrule was before big evil desert man didnt want to join our paradise- like what is the point about making the whole point of the game be -we need to restore hyrule to this paradise it once was- when you dont even see it or get to care about anything of it)
it might sound like a weird hangup but no really, the most we see is like two servant constructs, thats it, when they 'prepare for war' im pretty sure all you see is some lightly dressed ( ... is it just me or does their whole get up look alot like native american/other indingenous people too ... i still dont know how to feel about that- kinda adjacent to some of the sonau armor, the battery one i think??, also having that look...) hylians with spears, where the heck is all that tech?? is it implied to be all down in the mines hollowing out the underground (for no real reason either bc .... theres only two sonau left and no one else seems to want use nor need the tech otherwise there should have been more traces or soemthing left of it -unless it all just magically appeared out of nowhere in mostly prime condition while all shiekah tech jsut vaporized for bs non reasons just for it to be in tha game but oh dont you see its always been there lmao- so whats the point really????)
or up in the sky as most battle constructs are and they cant get them down in time bc *gestures vaguely*
or is it intentionally kept out of view bc idk seeing an army of robots on raurus side he can send out on a whim might not make him look as oh so good and perfect as they want him to look when he already got laserbeam pebbles (most of which hes been hoarding until ONE falls into hands not under his control) ?? like it just ... feels weird?? so many battle constructs that can even be a threat to link are jsut fully functioning strolling around in the present still, why wouldnt you want to use any of them to battle gan and if they DID why wouldnt you show that (no the 3 second unicorn cutscene doesnt count bc its just .. gan and his monsters isnt it) ?? (also ... why isnt there a big like battle ground , like fine you dont have to animate an army of monsters and robots clashing but... wouldnt it be cool to have you discover a giant flat plain in the underground (that magically got put under ground like gan just decided to stroll down there to get sealed lol) and its the only mostly empty field in the game littered with thousands of monster bones and dead constructs intermingled?? just to give it all a bit of weight?? evidence that it happened?? cool ass discovery????)
(also also i cannot let go of ganondorf apparently being sooooo anti tech but then clamgan uses the shiekah stuff??? shouldnt he also be against that then or is that suddendly fine bc- oh woops sorry, forgot clamgan is actually just something, not connected to gan at all actually, i mean why else would miasma turn into malice only to turn into miasma again haha none of that is connected actually what is a calamity anyway? also im sorry to bring this up again but i just cannot let go of the ppl in the present being so obsessed with using sonau tech in every part of their life now- they just lived through an apocalypse of a barely understood strange tech but CLEARLY this other even less understood strang tech is not dangerous at all lets make CARS OUT OF IT and what theres no danger in miasma and that tech existing at the same time LIKE SOMETHING ELSE BEFORE THAT IDK SEEMS LIKE A BAD COMBO--- oh sorry forgot that ceased to exist in both the world and peoples minds for *gestures vaguely* plot reasons- why why why are monsters mining the sonanium?? they dont even work with the yiga no that is also completely disconnected we dont wanna draw and interesting connections after all- whats the point if it means nothing but to be a loot box for the player-- actually, so much of totk is just a so built around throwing you into a box of toys with no substance to it- listen i know games are kinda like toys but if it doesnt make sense and offers you nothing interesting to think about even slightly whAT IS THE POINT)
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the-inheritance-games · 6 months ago
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SPOILERS!!!! 3s THEORY
I'm actually very proud of this theory rn and feel like a hawthorne for thinking of this, like I might actually be on to something here
Ok so I had a thought and its stuck in my mind
So we all know that Odette said some vague and confusing thing about “ There are always three”
And I think I have a good theory as to what it means
That being, I think that this phrase is a play on or nod to some of these other common sayings about threes
“Everything comes in threes”
“Bad things come in three” /“Good things come in threes”
“Death comes in threes”
Or “Omne trium perfectum” which means “everything that comes in threes is perfect” in Latin
These are all common saying about things happening in threes or what threes means
And I specifically think that Odette meant something about good/bad or life/death events happening in 3s
Or even about beginning/ending events happening (bc we all know she knows about Alphas and Omegas beginning and end)
I think this BECAUSE if you look back at where Odette says this you'll see that she says this in RESPONSE to grayson saying “she DIED before I was BORN”
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Grayson says his grandmother DIED BEFORE he was BORN and demands she EXPLAIN
He obv meant explain how is it possible for Alice to be the “A hawthorne did this” culprit but he doesnt specify explain what he just says explain and Odette probably choose to interpret that vaguely and gave an answer that “explains” or simplifies the reasons why Alice “died” and Graysons was “born” and says “there are always three”
Like she's saying “well everything comes in threes”/ “life and death happen in threes” that's the karmic reasoning why she “died” and you were born
And so obv Alices death and Grays birth are 2 life/death events and the third (or really FIRST) event would have been Tobys “death”
Which his death would also be the catalyst for both Alice’s death and Graysons birth
Bc Grayson would have never been born is Skye wasn't grieving her brother and although now we know Alice didnt die of grief id still say its safe to assume whatever happened was triggered by the loss of her son.
So the “thee” that Odette is referring to is Toby “died”, Alice “died”, Grayson is born
Everything comes in threes
But while I think this is what Odette meant when she choose to say this in response to Graysons demands for her to explain things I don't think that this is all that this phrase “There is always three” means, it has broader implications and could probably mean a lot of things
Its a vague and versatile phrase that Odette has heard many times, maybe as a warning. But there is definitely more to it, if I am right or heading in the right direction with my theory, then it could mean a lot of things and be important later on.
Also one last thing
I find it interesting how one of the common phrases “Omne trium perfectum” means everything that comes in threes is perfect and if my theory is correct then this would make GRAYSON one of the “things that comes in threes” and how in this phrase that would make him “perfect”
And we all know that he was the grandson who was GROOMED to be “perfect”
Could this be the reason that HE was “the chosen one”?
Was he the one Tobias choose bc he was part of the things that came in threes and has that karmical connection to Alice?
Idk but, its all very intriguing to me, and I can see so much potential and foreshadowing withing this little phrase that JLB very specifically used
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iamnmbr3 · 5 months ago
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Cursed Child rant? as a treat? 👉👈
Oh god. Where to even start. Listen, I know some people enjoy CC and I say more power to you. I'm not here to be the fun police and say what people can and can't like or write fic about or derive meaning from or whatever. But for me, personally, Cursed Child is an absolute mess of the worst kind that irritates me on a profound level.
First off, it's completely inconsistent with the canon characterizations and established rules of world building (and JKR didn't even do that much world building so there wasn't that much to keep track of and yet, they couldn't even bother to do that). I mean, Cedric, who tried to give the Triwizard Cup to Harry doesn't win and that somehow causes him to become a Death Eater??? Huh? It's not just ooc. It's bad storytelling. I mean, even if he was a hugely sore loser why would losing a tournament cause him to join an extremist blood purist paramilitary group? That has nothing to do with him losing. It's stupid and childish and nonsensical and SO bad.
And really? That's the best you can come up with? If the point of that whole thing was the tired trope of 'time travel goes wrong and makes things worse' they could've just had the gang expose Crouch earlier but instead of Voldemort not returning he just ends up returning but not using Harry's blood which allows him to do his original plan of growing his power in secret. And idk. Maybe then he takes over and he kills Harry and Harry doesn't come back. I didn't even put any effort into that. It's a bit dumb and inelegant but it gets the job done without wild character assassination and a lack of logic so profound it would insult the reasoning abilities of a fungus.
But ok, let's judge it as its own vaguely Harry Potter inspired thing rather than as an actual sequel to the canon series. You know what the result is? IT'S STILL BAD. It's just. SO BAD. I don't understand how it's a real thing.
It's like a parody of a bad play. It can't possibly be real. Harry suddenly has a phobia of pigeons? Why??? It's so...stupid. And I'm supposed to take that seriously? What? And the dialogue. The dialogue. "Bad" doesn't even cover it. The fact that "Wow. Squeak. My geekness is a-quivering" is a real actual line in the actual play causes me physical pain. WHO WRITES THAT?! AND THEN LEAVES IT IN THE FINAL DRAFT?!?!?
And Delphi. WHAT EVEN?! She's literally like a parody of a bad fanfic Mary Sue. Down to the blue streak in her hair. But we're supposed to take her seriously? As a villain? Tf? She's like a bad Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way knockoff. The whole play is like an unfunny parody of bad writing. But it's not supposed to be. It actually pretends to be a genuine drama. Which is so much worse. I truly think My Immortal is better. And way funnier.
No effort at all went into the story construction. Characters act incredibly childishly and unrealistically and simplistically. The story doesn't feel like it was written by adults. There's no feeling or depth or emotion. It's all plot contrivances and nauseatingly simplistic writing. It isn't a story. It's just some stuff that happens. Because the writers were just like 'eh it's Harry Potter it'll sell.' And that's not art. That's just churned out content. And it bothers me on such a profound level that they did it and got away with it.
I would be embarrassed to write that for myself, let alone to turn that in as a professional writer. It's so inconsistent with the original story that I legitimately think the 2 guys who wrote it didn't even read the books. They just glanced at the wiki and decided they were good to go. Despite being PAID to do this. How sloppy is that? Not to mention Harry Potter meant so much to so many people who were ecstatic to get more content yet the two clowns who wrote this just skimmed the wiki and then vomited out some of the worst lines ever penned in history and called it a day.
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propertyofkylar · 1 year ago
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Whitney trying to cheer up a sad pc. He doesn’t know what to do at all, poor thing just wants to help.
He ends up taking them to his place and shows him the new plushies he got recently. He gushes about them, telling pc their names and stuff. Seeing him act so cute like that helps cheers them up.
Idk what I’m saying anymore
was craving to write whitney content and then i remembered i had this beautiful prompt waiting in my ask ty ty ty
With your eyes cast towards the ground and one hand clutching your backpack strap, you raced out of school, hoping no one would bother you and you could return to the orphanage in peace.
It was just one of those days. Often, your life had made you angry. Occasionally, it frustrated you. But today? Today, you were just goddamn sad about it all.
So, your plan was to rush home, take a long bath and lay in bed trying to imagine your life was good, or at least, somewhat better.
But a hand grabbing your wrist told you that wouldn't be happening.
"Leaving without saying goodbye, slut?" Ugh. Whitney. His behavior towards you had been confusing lately, to say the least, so he was precisely who you were trying to avoid.
"Yes," you said simply, tugging your arm out of his grasp. You didn't look at him for fear that the tears gathering in your eyes would begin to spill. You weren't even sure why you were about to start crying. It simply was how today was going for you.
Whitney dropped your arm and you spared a glance at his face. He was frowning, but he wasn't arguing with you. Instead, he gestured away from his friends and hesitantly, you followed.
"What is it?" He said, folding his arms across his chest. You were slightly taken aback.
"What do you mean?" You replied, knowing exactly what he meant.
"You know," he waved a hand vaguely in front of you. "You look all miserable and shit."
"Thanks for noticing," you choked out and quickly looked at the ground again. Fucking great. You were really about to cry in front him.
"Come on," Whitney said, taking your hand again, but much gentler this time. "You're coming with me."
"But I--" you hardly had time to react before he was pulling you along, not even bothering to say goodbye to his friends.
"I can't have my favorite slut looking all mopey," he said, but his tone betrayed his true feelings. He cared. "Then I look like a shit boyfriend."
You couldn't reply, so you just let him drag you along. Whitney looked to be deep in thought, and he kept looking back at you.
"What is it?" You finally asked.
"I don't like you being sad," he said, before quickly shaking his head. "Don't get the wrong idea, slut. It's not like that. It's just weird."
"...okay?" You replied, but he didn't say anything further.
Eventually, you ended up at Whitney's place, where he took you into his room. You sat on his bed hesitantly, not sure what was about to happen.
And as you quickly realized, Whitney didn't seem to have a plan himself. He stood there, looking at you uncomfortably, before he took a seat beside you. He put a hand on your shoulder and you couldn't hold back anymore. You started crying.
You cried into his shoulder and he awkwardly stroked your hair as you did. The entire time he didn't speak and neither did you. He just let you cry.
Eventually, you drew your head back, wiping at your eyes. "Thanks," you mumbled.
Whitney nodded and stood up, walking across the room to grab a small hedgehog plushie. "Here," he said, thrusting the toy towards you. "His name is Walter."
"Oh," you blinked away the lingering tears as you grabbed the stuffed animal. "Is he new?"
"Yeah," Whitney said, his cheeks tinged pink. "The toy store had a sale the other day, so..." he trailed off and shrugged.
The way he was acting brought a small smile to your face for the first time all day. "What else did you get?"
You thought you saw a small smile on his own face as Whitney turned away to show off his haul. He had gotten several new plushies, each a different animal with its own name and personality. You could feel your sadness evaporating as Whitney got more and more enthused.
"Thank you," you said suddenly, cutting Whitney's introduction of Gerald the otter off. Now, his face turned bright red, and he looked away from you.
"Whatever," he muttered. "Don't mention it, slut."
"I won't," you said with a grin, kissing him on his blushing cheek, which only made him blush harder.
"Fuck off. You owe me," Whitney said, but there was no malice in his voice as he rested his head atop yours.
You hummed happily at the feeling. "I know."
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3spurrrr · 7 days ago
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Okay I rewatched bsd, here are my thoughts :)
- I had read the manga too but that was a while ago. I still love how the anime adapts the manga and how it doesn't completely go off doing its own thing etc. I also feel like the anime increases the og pacing of the manga and I find that cunt!
- I have to say that the intelligence aspect of the characters is so outlandishly written. It's incredibly illogical and even for manga anime world, unrealistic. It makes sense for them to be smart but it doesn't make sense how they do what they do. It's not really explained at all. With the hunting dogs its at least somewhat explained why they are so OP, but with fyodor or dazai, we get zero Intel on their thought process.
A perfect example of a really well written realistic intelligent character would be L and light from death note. Their strategy is always somewhat or outright clear and it makes it fun for the viewer because they feel like a part of the team and not some third wheel. We can somewhat "relate" and sympathize etc.
Here. I wouldn't care about their beef if it didn't directly affect the ADA.
But im not sure how believable the author wants the story to be in the first place.. after all... he IS a kafka fan and you can expect a lot of fundamental vagueness disguised in a slew of allegedly meaningful metaphors from those guys.
I'm starting to believe that dazai and fyodor are actually so incredibly stupid it paradoxes into intelligence... I mean... fyodor definitely is morally demented but dazai is just... bro idk what the fuck he is and I don't care to be honest. All he wanted to do was die and somehow ended up in the mafia. But his suicidalness and how it's handeled and how it functions or dysfunctions in the plot, is a topic for a different conversation.
All I can say is: never make your characters OP in too many things. The plot is predictable and by now I just anticipate both of them to constantly outsmart each other and you know what? It happens all the fucking time.
I wouldn't be surprised if dazai ended up victorious or fyodor or if they both died or lived. Anything is possible with them and that is not good writing. You want the reader to believe that there is only one or two outcomes and then BOOM you smack them across the face with a really nice plot twist. All of the plot twists concerning the two are predictable in a way where you know one is coming but now how exactly it will happen.
Sooo unfortunate since they are the main people who move the plot forward. It's sad that the writer chose to go with the lame trope of "I have a backup plan for my backup plan for my backup plan" or "I knew that you knew that I knew that you knew that I knew"
The only thing keeping me going is the art style, the odd charm and i just have an enormous crush on fyodor and a soft spot for sigma and atsushi.
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dingodad · 2 months ago
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I don’t understand what’s being talked about when its said that Lord English’s attempt to kill Cronus split him into multiple vessels. Does that mean that the idea of the essence of Lord English was splintered to form the other characters? It’s not literal right? At what point in time could that even have happened? Is that why he glitched the session of the alpha trolls, because he couldn’t enter it himself to kill Cronus, since the universe hadn’t ended yet? Also why is Lord English related to the hope aspect anyways? I think Eridan even mentions him being the lord of the angels prophesized at one point, idk what that’s about?
the way Aranea frames the story, English's spell on Cronus backfiring supposedly WAS the glitch that prevented him from entering Beforus, "until he could find some other cunning way to enter our universe."
of course this story comes to us through two separate layers of questionable narration; Aranea is relating to us a story that Cronus may or may not have made up about his own backstory. so we're operating well outside of the boundaries of what we could possibly look at through a "literal" lens. all we've got to really work with are vague ideas.
the relationship between Lord English and the hope aspect is exactly that the bloodline of heroes of hope are supposedly the ones destined to beat him, just as related in Aranea's story ("the legacy of defeating the evil magician would have to 8e passed on to his descendant, or if his descendant proved to be as much of a failure as he did, then perhaps on some other Hero of Hope"). it's the aspect of angels, and as a cherub Lord English is of course a kind of angel (though Eridan was actually under the mistaken impression that Jack Noir was the prophesied "lord of all angels").
it's possibly relevant that in the version of the story as WE hear it, the "defeat" Jake ultimately hands out to Caliborn is only a technical victory; he doesn't put an end to Lord English in any meaningful way, and Caliborn even goes as far as to say "THERE IS NO BODILY HARM". he just knocks the guy down in preparation for Dirk to seal him away. but hope is not an aspect that deals with the "bodily", its domain is spirits and ideas; so in the past, my assessment has been that the reason heroes of hope are such a threat to Lord English is precisely BECAUSE they have this ability to pull apart or disrupt the collection of souls that make him up. i don't know if i would still confidently hold this up as the strongest interpretation today, but i think it's worth mentioning.
did any of this "literally" happen... well, I have to emphasise again that at this level of granularity, the "literal" is no longer something we can take for granted. like, "literally", Dirk and Equius were created from slime in an ectobiology lab. but I assert that according to the rules of Paradox Space, the metaphorical "ideas" of Dirk and Equius have to have come FROM somewhere, and if those ideas eventually become constituent parts of Lord English then at some point the loop has to close and he has to be broken back down into those parts. it is worth noting that Aranea's wording - "sealing the magician's spirit away in a series of unassuming vessels" - could also pretty easily be taken as referring to the various puppets English is forced to inhabit as he emerges in universe after universe, and that if English were ever to be split back apart it could theoretically have happened in any number of those infinite lifetimes. it's the vague ideas represented by Cronus' story - the spirit of the story, that English is perpetually being foiled by being reverted to the start of his own timeline without any memory of how he failed - that matters more than whether Cronus was literally attacked by Lord English with a wand at some point in his childhood.
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stilljuststardust · 2 months ago
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Hey
Idk if you remember me but I sent you an ask before. Unfortunately i'm still miserable. I feel like the "you already have it" advice doesn't work for me, at least for shifting, and gives me mental breakdowns instead. There's so much stuff i'm sad about and idk how to get over the attitude that being sad = your manifestation won't happen.
I cry to myself about how much life sucks like once a week. I'm disappointed in myself that i've been on loa tumblr for like a year and seemingly learned nothing since I haven't gotten anything I wanted. Idk what the ppl that manifest easily are doing differently than me, or how to make what they do work for me. Idk what to do I feel like all the mainstream advice
I try to follow like "imagine it and chill out" or "you already have it" just give me mental breakdowns instead of success. Idk what to do i'm really tired. Please help
Hello again, I do remember you.
My perspective has changed a bit over this past year. I'm sorry that it wasn't what you needed then. You don't have to feel great, you don't have to feel anything.
It's not about doing everything right, you're just repeating something till your subconscious manifests it. You don't have to jump through hoops or suppress your emotions you just have to saturate your mind.
This is sloppier than I'd like. It's 3 am and though I've been thinking of what I'd like to say I'm a bit too out of it for it to come out how I need it. I don't want you to wait longer though so I'll post it anyways.
Similar post where I said all of this better
Also, I know you've read this before but you really should again:
It's ok to feel like shit
Your emotions don't manifest. If you just need to be told that I can say it as many times as you like. Half the stuff I've manifested I was cranky or anxious or mad when I did it. Half the time I didn't believe it'd happen and then it did. Half the time I felt how you do. You can do it. I promise.
I don't use fulfilment for the same reason you mentioned, stressed me out. For me personally it was vague and didn't allow me to anchor myself.
It's ok that you feel like shit. It's ok that you're scared. It's ok that you're hurting. You can still do this and I promise you don't have to magically defy your emotions to do it.
In terms of how to change the actual belief you just affirm the opposite. You learned it through repetition it's unlearned the same way. Anti-climatic I know. I used to have a rule that if I said something bad about myself I would repeat three things good. Maybe when you have that belief come up your repeat three reasons why you can feel like shit and still manifest.
Stop punishing yourself for having emotions. Suppressing emotions has never made them go away and I can tell you from experience it is a losing battle. You can feel them, it's ok.
In my opinion you need to take a break. Take that pressure off. Right now it's a burden of its own and it's just piling onto everything else you're feeling.
You need to take a couple days where you don't push yourself so hard. No methods or law or anything. Process your emotions and let yourself breathe for a bit.
Chill. Not as a method or a tool but just genuine mental health advice. I know taking a break won't solve the issues in your life but neither will beating yourself up every day. Ground yourself and let out everything you're pushing down because it is clearly weighing on you.
You have been putting near constant pressure on yourself for a year. In my experience the pressure you're putting on yourself is more suffocating than your actual feelings. The most painful thing is usually our refusal to feel it.
When I would suppress my emotions it felt like constantly running away from my life. I didn't feel better, the suppression just became an additional burden. We let out emotions because that's how they leave us. If we hold them in that's where they'll stay, inside of us.
Cry for an hour, throw a fit, write in a burn book. Give yourself permission to fucking feel. (You can do this even when manifesting something btw)
When you're ready to come back to manifestation don't return to emotional suppression. Feel what you feel just don't repeat the old story to yourself. What I mean by that is you are 100% allowed to feel like absolute shit just don't affirm for anything you don't want.
Get off Tumblr and get away from all the noise telling you what to do or shaming you for mistakes.
Stick to robotic affirmations instead of fulfillment . The only goal is to repeat a sentence/thought that implies you have it and avoid repeating anything that implies you don't.
Feel whatever you want, it's robotic because feeling is not a factor. It's a definable goal so you don't have to be constantly asking if you're doing it right.
10 minutes whenever you can just repeat what you want. That's your only goal do not add anything else to it. Don't try something new when you get anxious, stick to a schedule and take care of yourself. I say this because I think what you need is something solid to ground yourself with instead of a less defined goal.
Don't ignore your mental health in the name of living in the end. Living in the end is just refusing to affirm shit you don't want.
Your biggest obstacle is your self hatred. This is speculation but it sounds to me like when you waver or give into the 3D you respond to it by chastising yourself.
Maybe you have an unconscious belief that self discipline = scolding yourself or this is just your knee jerk reaction to mistakes. You can recognize the need for change without berrating yourself. Sometimes healing isn't linear, sometimes we slip up, that doesn't mean there is something wrong with you.
From a different post but I honestly don't think I can rephrase this better:
You cannot shame yourself better. Hating yourself, comparing yourself to others, being cruel to yourself because you "aren't doing good enough" has never helped you. If you only have one person in your corner it should be you. If you have only one person telling you to keep going it should be you.
On days when everything seems out of your control you can control how you treat yourself. You deserve kindness and patience too. It's ok if you have setbacks. It's ok if you got off track.
It's ok to trust yourself. It's ok to tell yourself you're good enough and that what you're doing is enough. It's ok to tell yourself that you're good at this.
You feel things very deeply and there is nothing wrong with that. Shame will not push you out of it.
You are consistently reinforcing the beliefs that you:
1. Are not good enough to manifest
2. Cannot change and
3. Will fail if you try again
Self defacing behavior is doing NOTHING but further a negative self concept/make you feel like shit.
You are good enough. There is nothing wrong with you. You do not have to become someone else to get what you want because you are enough.
Links
Manifest with anger subliminal
Manifest with sadness subliminal
Manifest with impatience subliminal
Success stories with robotic affirmations (aka without emotion)
My favorite manifestation video "you only have one limiting belief"
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eternalartblock · 3 months ago
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hey kyoko whats. whats going on girl. why did you change the subject after mentioning your sister that one time. is there something you want to share with us. hey. look at me in my eyes. fym she used to be a nurse. what happened. hey. kyoko.
i dont care if we have CRUMBS of her lore i will take it and roll with it
rambles under the cut. warning its kinda long because i kinda lost it
so demo 3 gave us kyoko lore. far from a lot but it did. and i love her so of course i am going to read way too much into it
my main point of interest is her sister. her dialogue on her is pretty vague, and she doesnt even drop a name. we do know that she is- *cough cough* WAS a nurse. she was, until something happened. which kyoko is unfortunately also vague about.
obviously its most likely that shes dead, but idk. i kinda have a feeling it was something else. perhaps something more sinister. its the way she says “she used to be a nurse” rather than just “she was a nurse” i think. i have a theory that shes gonna be one of the sword wielders but i have absolutely nothing to back it up but im gonna put it here anyway in the unlikely case that im actually right so i can brag about being correct /silly
unfortunately we dont know a lot about kyokos relationship with her sister either, but i think its pretty safe to assume they had a pretty close relationship. but because of this id say its pretty likely that if something bad happened to her it would have traumatized kyoko :(
im kinda scared that this is gonna age badly and it was just some mundane thing like her sister got fired for being shit at her job or something but like. i dont think kyoko would have pulled a subject change after talking about something like that. she does trust the player doesnt she? pretty sure she says something like “yeah im here for you bro, as long as you listen to my problems too!!!” it seems to me this is the one thing shes not willing to talk about… so yeah i think it really was that bad
but hey. thats just a theory…
A BLOCK TALES TH *gets shot*
anyways kyoko we love you please talk to us :(
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